Iron and Ice
by TAKA-TAKA-TAKA
Summary: Conquering an Empire is easy. Managing Mistresses takes a bit more skill. (Note: Some chapters contain Naughty Bits. They have been tagged NSFW for your convenience).
1. Chapter 1

The earth was shaking, and the air was full of the smell of iron and ozone. She could feel his hands on her, felt the mingled shame and desire his touch kindled in her, raised her lips to meet his as he broke apart, torn to pieces like ash on a wind that reeked of sulfur and suffering.

Rose woke with a start to find herself in an unfamiliar bed. She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself, shoulders shaking as she struggled not to weep.

"Mama?"

She swiped at her cheeks, lit a candle by the bedside. Gold eyes watched her from the darkness, and she felt a small hand grab at her skirt.

"Hush, Thorn," she whispered, lifting her son into her lap. "It's alright."

He touched her wet cheeks with one dark hand, stuck his fingers in his mouth speculatively. She smiled and smoothed his unruly black hair, hugging him tightly. He squirmed, uncomfortable, and squinted up at her, wrinkling his nose.

"No, Mama," he said sternly, and then, "No! No, don't tickle me!"

"What do you say, Thorn?" she asked, tickling his feet, caught his ankle as he kicked her. "No, no kicking! You're a big boy now, you know what to say."

"Nooooooo!"

"Say 'please', Thorn."

"NOOOOOO!"

He twisted in her grip, and the vase next to the bed shattered in a burst of blue light, splattering them with dingy water and old petals. Thorn blinked, startled, and Rose gave him a stern look.

"And _now_ what do you say?"

"Sorry, Mama."

"Good boy." She kissed his nose, and he made a face at her.

"Oh, good, Rose, you're awake."

She pulled the blanket over her nightgown, flushing.

"Florian, what on earth? I'm not properly dressed."

"Oops, sorry." He averted his gaze, grinned down at Thorn. "Heeey, little guy."

Thorn stared at him, gold gaze deeply suspicious.

"I think I've got a sweet here somewhere." Florian dug in a pocket, handed him a sucker. "Here you go, buddy."

Thorn stared up at him, looked at the sweet with confusion, and then suddenly smiled and banged it against the wall.

"Imma kill it!" he cried happily.

"Thorn, go run and play," Rose said. "Florian and I have to talk."

"Okay!" he said, far too readily, raced into the hall.

"Stay in the villa!" she shouted after his back. "I don't want a repeat of what happened yesterday, do you hear me?"

"What happened yesterday?" Florian asked curiously.

"Turn around," Rose ordered him.

He complied with a shrug. She sighed, pulling on a heavy brocade robe.

"He got outside somehow, and then he somehow managed to get into the sheep pens of our neighbor- what's his name?"

"Senator Vulgarius?"

"Yes, that's the one. I heard screaming, came out to find him clinging to a ram by his _teeth_. The thing bucked him over the wall, and scared me to death, and he just popped up giggling- and then he tried to run back in!" She pulled her tangled hair into a hasty braid. "I don't know what to do with him some days"

"Did he do that?" Florian asked, nodding to the shattered vase.

"Yes. With magic, actually."

"Ooh. That's not good."

"No, it's not. Not after what happened during the Cataclysm. If anybody else, besides you and me knew what he could do, I'm afraid it would be a regular witch hunt."

"We won't let that happen." The elf stared at the shattered vase, a strange hunger flitting across his narrow face. "He's far too valuable."

"He can't stay here forever," Rose said sadly.

"Of course he can!" Florian flung an arm around her shoulders. "Don't worry, Marius and me'll take care of everything. Oh, and speaking of Marius, he wants to talk with you about our plans for the anti-magic shield over the capitol.

"Oh, Marius?" Her hand went to her hair. "He's here?"

"He just arrived. You said you had some expertise on anti-spells, right?"

"My father was a wizard," Rose said tersely. "Of course I know how magic works. I might not be able to use it, but I can certainly understand it. Just let me get dressed, and I'll join him. Oh, and keep Thorn out of his way, will you?"

"Gotcha." Florian gave her a sly wink. "Don't want the kid getting underfoot when you're alone with your, uh, 'gentleman caller', right?"

"It's nothing like that," Rose snapped, cheeks growing hot. "I just...I haven't told him about Thorn's father yet. That's a conversation that might be more than a little awkward, and I'm just not ready to have it yet."

"Eh, suit yourself."

"Go ahead and let Marius know I'm on my way."

The elf shrugged and slouched away. Rose sighed and pulled on an Empire-style dress, slung a cloak over her back to cover her bare shoulders. She paused, adjusting her braid in the mirror. The shield, in theory, would dampen the magic of anything or anyone within its boundaries. Perhaps with it, she might be able to control her son's abilities- keep him safe.

Above all, she didn't want him to end up like his father- snatched away to some dark dimension, trapped in a place she'd been unable to contact despite years of trying. She paused in the midst of applying a smidge of lip paint, trying not to remember, her shoulders slumped.

"I miss you, love" she whispered. "I miss you so much."

She sat like that for a moment, then straightened her back and schooled her expression into neutrality.

"Right," she said sharply. "That's enough. I have work to do."

She left the room without a glance back, shoulders squared, ready for the task of building a new world. Behind her, in the glass, there was a flicker of darkness, fast as a heartbeat, gone like a thought.

"Hey. Hey, kiddo." Florian crouched down in the yard next to the small hooded figure. "Whatcha doing?"

Thorn didn't look up, industriously pushing a stick into an anthill. Tiny black bodies scrambled frantically in the dirt. He bit his tongue in concentration, trying to squash them with the end of the twig, scowling.

"Come on, kid, you know your mom doesn't want you out here. Let's go back in, okay?"

Thorn licked the end of the stick thoughtfully. Florian scowled.

"Son of one of the greatest magic users in history and you're sitting here in the dirt eating bugs. That's just great." He stood, scuffing petulantly at a pebble. "And meanwhile, I want to help rebuild the world, and I can't even light a candle."

The anthill burst into flames. Thorn clapped his hands, grinning.

"Did you do that? Ugh, you little brat." Florian frowned at the top of his head, suddenly seized by an almost insatiable desire to push the kid into the flames. "Bet you're gonna turn out just like your daddy. Nothing but glorified thug who uses magic like it's a damn club. Bloody primitive."

Thorn turned and gave him a confused look. Florian sighed and flung himself down next to the boy.

"I bet you don't even understand what I'm saying, do you?"

The kid poked him in the side with the stick and growled. Florian stared at him coolly.

"Your mom might be pretty smart, but she sure has shit taste in men," he said.

"Shit!" the kid repeated.

"Ah, damn it, don't say that around her. She'll kill me." Florian stood, brushing himself off. "Come on, kid, let's get inside before she sees us."

Thorn glared up at him, fell back and lay on the ground like a log.

"Wanna play with sheeps."

"You can't play with the sheep, you brat, because apparently your idea of 'playing' with something involves trying to kill it."

"Wanna SHEEPS!"

"Damn it, you little shit, I..." Florian paused as a thought occurred to him. "Hey...wait a second. Hey Leaf, you wanna see something cool?"

The boy looked up at him suspiciously, wiped a smear of dirt from a dark cheek.

"M'name's Thorn," he said, surly.

"Sure, whatever." Florian could never remember the kid's name. "But do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Wanna see something cool?"

The boy shrugged, picking himself up off the ground.

"Okay."

"Follow me. And keep quiet." Florian winked at him. "Don't want your mom finding out now, do we?"

"Do we?"

"Shh!"

Florian led him through the villa, flitting from shadow to shadow. Thorn scampered after him. Florian paused in front of a set of heavy brass doors, unlocked the massive bolt with a grunt of effort.

"In here."

Thorn paused, rubbing his foot against the back of his leg, uncertain.

"Mama says not to go in there," he said hesitantly.

"And you always do what she says, right?" Florian asked sarcastically. "Come on, this is pretty cool!"

Thorn followed him in, the hair on the back of his neck prickling. He raised a tingling hand, staring. Blue light sparked and arced between his finger tips.

"Hurry up," Florian snapped.

Thorn started and hurried after him. Florian was standing on a marble plinth above a vast pit. An unhealthy blue glow radiated up from the depths, bathing his narrow face in its sickly light. He turned towards Thorn, eyes hungry.

"Down there," he said.

Thorn peered over the edge. An amorphous, vivid blue mass churned violently far, far below, leaving glowing streaks of slime on the marble.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Raw magic," Florian replied.

"It's _hurting,_" Thorn said nervously. "I don't like this. I want to go."

He stared down at the ooze, entranced. Florian stared down at him, face twisting, before he knew it found himself reaching down to push him over the ledge-

"Thorn!"

Thorn whirled and fell over, startled. Florian vanished behind a pillar. Rose hurried to her son's side, scooped him up, staring down into the pit.

"Thorn, what are you doing here?" she asked him. "It's dangerous! How did you even get _in_ here?"

He twisted in her grip, fixated on the pulsating ooze. She looked around suspiciously. Had someone lured him in here? Maybe someone in Marius' inner circle had found them out. She tightened her arms around him.

"It's not safe for you here," she said quietly. "Come on."

He couldn't stay here, Rose thought. If she loved him, she had to find another way to keep him safe.

Part of her had known this day would come. She'd been in touch with families and foundling homes across the face of the known world. Most of them had been agreeable at first- she was a noble lady, after all- until they'd seen Thorn. He had his father's eyes, and the stamp of magic was on his skin. She'd found few who were brave enough to offer to take him in.

She ran through her options, packing a bag, keeping her hands and mind busy. She knew she couldn't allow herself to stop and think about what she was about to do, or she'd never be able to go through with it.

There was a convent in the sands to the south that was not averse to taking in foundlings...but orphans there were forced to join their strict order, which worshiped a goddess of justice and light. She shook her head, looking at Thorn, who was diligently drawing on the walls with her lip paint. No, that would not do for him, not at all.

There was a tribe of feral elves far to the west in the tangled woods that would steal away human children and raise them as their own. Their eyes had flashed, and they had chanted and sang when she asked them if they would raise Thorn. They would raise him as a king, they promised her, would teach him to hunt the fiercest, strangest creatures of the wood, would teach him how to wield his father's dark magic. She looked at him, considering, as he pulled a dress from her closet and draped it over his shoulders, pulling himself up to his full height in the mirror. No, her Thorn was wild enough already. That would not do, either.

It would have to be Nordberg. Unless, of course, she found a way to contact Gnarl-

She shook her head, quashing the thought before it had time to even fully wake. She would never let her son become his father. She wanted him to have a childhood, she thought, the kind her own strict father hadn't let her have. She wanted him to play with other children his own age, and laugh, and learn what it meant to be human. He couldn't do that here, with her, but he certainly couldn't do it with the minions, either.

Nordberg, then. It was a sleepy little town far to the North, far enough away to be out of reach of almost everyone who could use or hurt him. The people there feared magic, true, but not with a virulent hate like Empire citizens. They had some trade with the elves in the North, and seemed to view magic with more of a wary respect than anything else. There was an old woman in the town who ran a home for foundlings, and she had promised Rose that, for a modest fee, Thorn would be well provided for. It was less than ideal, but it was the best she could do for him.

"Come on, sweetheart." She pulled the dress from his shoulders, wrapped him in a warm cloak. "We're going on an adventure."

"Where are we going?" He looked at the cloak, wrinkling his nose. "Mama, it's summertime!"

"Not where we're going. Come on, darling, we're going to use the portal."

"The portal!" He bounced, excited. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

She glanced out the window, checking the time by the sun. It was still early, and she knew that the soldiers who were supposed to guard the portal tended to rise late, and were generally nursing wine-induced hangovers. She slung the bag she'd packed over her shoulder and took his hand in her own.

"Come on," she said. "Be quiet, okay?"

He followed her mutely. She glanced around the corner to the portal, sighed in relief- there was no one in sight.

"Hurry, Thorn." She tugged at his hand, pulling him onto the platform after her.

Light flickered blue, and wind roared in her ears. The platform shook, the air blurred, resolved into a snowy landscape. It was dusk in Nordberg, and snow was falling gently. The lights of the town winked cheerily, and she could hear the cheerful bustle of voices in the market, the bark of seals and the rush of the sea.

Thorn laughed, delighted, as a snowflake landed on his nose. He hurled himself after the flakes, plunging into a snowdrift.

"Thorn!" Rose cried. "You'll catch a cold!"

He popped out of the snow and shook himself, laughing. She sighed, heart clenching, and held out her hand.

"Come on, sweetheart."

He took her hand trustingly. She felt her breath catch in her throat.

"Mama, you're crying again."

"It's just the wind, darling."

She led him to the gate, remembering the old woman's instructions. She brushed snow from his shoulders, bent to kiss his forehead.

"Knock on the gate and ask for a woman named Lwelyn," Rose said. "There's clothes and money and food and hot cider in the bag. Be good for her."

"Mama?" he asked, confused, reached up and touched her cheek. "You _are_ crying. Why are you crying?"

"Be good, Thorn. Be brave."

She knelt and wrapped her arms around him, felt small hands clench against her back. She pulled away, felt her heart breaking in two.

"Stay here, Thorn," she whispered. "I'll be back soon."

He watched her walk away into the snow, started after her.

"Mama!"

"Stay there, Thorn. I'll be back in just a minute, I promise!"

She stepped onto the portal, hardly even able to breathe, and then she and the portal vanished in a flare of blue light.

"Mama!" he cried again, ran to where the portal had been. "Come back!"

He dug furiously in the snow, casting about for the portal, at last collapsed, exhausted, sniffling in the cold. He sat for a long while in the dark, kneeling in the snow. At last, he swiped an arm across his nose and stood, trudging resolutely across the drifts.

He hammered on the gate, glaring up at the dark walls. At last a light was kindled in one of the shoddy little houses along the wall, and a man leaned over the ramparts, peering down at him.

"What's all this racket?" he demanded.

"Tovold?" Another man came out on the wall from a guardhouse, pulling up his pants. "What's going on?"

"There's someone at the gates." The man squinted down. "I think it's...I think it's a child!"

"Well, what are you waiting for, man? Go let him in!"

"What if this is some sort of trick?"

"Daddy?" A girl stumbled out of the hut, rubbing her eyes. "Is everything okay?"

"Go back to sleep, sweetie. Everything's fine."

"There's somebody down there, daddy." She peered over the walls, waved. "Hello! What's your name?"

The small figure peered up at her, resumed banging on the gate.

"It's just a child, Tovold. Go let it in before it wakes up the whole town."

The girl followed her father down the wooden stairs, doing her best to help him wind the winch that opened the gate.

"Where do you think he came from?" she asked curiously.

"Let's ask him," her father said, nodding towards the gate.

The cloak-wreathed figure stumbled through, looked up at them both with brilliant gold eyes, bright as the flash of a wolf's gaze in the dark. Her father made a gesture to ward off evil.

"He's got funny eyes," he said in a low voice. "I don't think he's human!"

"I like them." The girl walked forward, holding out her hand. "I'm Kelda. What's your name?"

Gold eyes looked curiously at her outstretched hand.

"Where's Lwelyn?" a small voice asked, stumbling over the pronunciation of the unfamiliar name.

"Dad, I think he wants the lady who runs the foundling's home."

"I'm not so sure we should have let him through the gates," her father replied darkly. "He's got a witchy look about him. This one's got magic in his blood, and no mistake."

"Maybe he's part elf?" She turned to him. "Are you part elf, witch boy?"

He didn't reply, and she shrugged.

"Come on, dad, we can't leave him out here, can we? Didn't you tell me that Mom used to say we should help people, even if it's hard?"

"Oh, don't you go bringing your mother into this, girl." He sighed. "Ech, you're right, though. Come on, you, whatever you are. We'll take you to Lwelyn."

Lwelyn clucked her tongue when she saw the boy, emptied his pack onto the rough table in the foundling's home. She pulled the bag of gold from among the clothes and toys, weighing it in her hand.

"It sounds like he knew to ask for you specifically," Tovold was saying again. "Are you _sure_ you don't know who he is?"

"Nope, nope, never seen him before." The old woman eyed Thorn coolly. "And I must say, I'm not pleased that somebody dropped him off at our gates without so much as a bye-your-leave. I'm too soft-hearted, Tovold, everyone knows I'll take in every waif and stray."

"So you _will_ take him in?" Tovold asked her.

Lwelyn pulled a piece of gold from the bag and bit it, looked at it critically.

"Hmm, well, we're far too crowded here as it is, and really, whoever dropped him off left him with a pittance. A pittance, I tell you." She tucked the bag swiftly into her skirts. "I don't think I have room."

"But you can't just leave him outside!" Kelda cried. "Dad, can't he stay with us?"

"Now, girl, you know we don't hardly have room for the two of us, even."

"But you just can't! Please, ma'am, he's all alone!"

"Hmm." Lwelyn sorted through the toys, held up a tunic and gave it a critical look. "I suppose I could sell some of these." She looked down at Thorn, and he stared back. There was something judgmental in that gaze, she thought, shook it off with a shudder. "He can sleep in the barn, I suppose."

"Thank you, ma'am." Tovold nodded to her. "I appreciate you taking him off my hands. Don't know what I would have done otherwise."

"Of course. I'm always happy to help the less fortunate."

"I'll be back tomorrow," Kelda promised.

The boy looked up at her mutely. Seized by a sudden impulse, she hugged him, wrapped her scarf around his neck. He stiffened, reached up to finger the scarf with a dark hand, staring at her, unreadable.

"Welcome to Nordberg," she said.


	2. Chapter 2

Something was watching her from the woods.

Kelda sat up straighter and peered into the branches, frowning. There was something there, she thought, some kind of animal she'd never seen before. She crept closer towards the pines, straining to see beneath the dark boughs-

"'Hey, Kelda!"

She whirled around with a start. Jek waved a mittened hand, beckoning her over. The other village children clustered around him, chattering excitedly, cheeks red from the cold.

"We're going to see the wolf the hunters caught!" He exclaimed. "You coming or not?"

"Sure," she said distractedly, with one last look at the woods. "Sure, I'm coming. They got the one that was killing all the seal pups and scaring the caribou?"

"Sure did. I hear he's a big brute, with teeth as long as your fingers, all covered in blood! The grownups say they're gonna sacrifice him at the Midwinter's eve party, make a nice cloak for my mom."

"What does she need with a new cloak?" Kelda asked, scrunching up her nose. "She's got a new one every week!"

"Eh, women, I guess," Jek said sagely.

Kelda gave him an arch look.

"What do you know about women, Jek? You're barely even a year older than me."

"I know what my dad says, and my dad's the mayor. That means he's always right."

"Ugh, whatever you say, Jek. Let's just go see this wolf of yours."

Jek led the posse of boisterous children to the center of town. Kelda followed at a slower pace, felt the back of her neck tingling as if someone were standing behind her. She looked over her shoulder and saw nothing. She shivered, rubbing her shoulders, and then ran to join the other children.

A mangy, ancient wolf lay despondently in the center of an iron cage in the town square, ribs straining painfully at its skin. It was covered in old scars and open wounds, and one amber eye was swollen shut. It looked up at her as she walked to the bars and met her gaze, struggling to rise from bloodied straw.

"Kelda, get away from that thing!" A heavy hand descended on her shoulder and yanked her unceremoniously back. "Do you want to get bit?"

"No, Dad," she mumbled.

"Speak up, girl, I can't hear you." He squinted down at her, swaying slightly. She could smell the moonshine on his breath from where she stood.

"I said, no sir."

"Good girl." Her father put his hands on his hips and grinned at the assembled children. "So, you kids like my wolf, huh? I caught the fellow myself! He put up a real fight!"

"I'm sure he did," Jek said, all mock innocence. "You're real lucky you didn't get hurt."

"Sure, I am, boy!" Kelda's father said, proudly oblivious.

"Must have been a real battle."

"Jek, piss off," Kelda snapped.

"Language, Kelda. What would your blessed mother think?"

"Yes, Kelda, what would your mother think?" Jek asked.

"You shut up," she snarled, hurling herself at him.

They crashed against the bars of the cage, and the wolf struggled to its feet, growling. Jek scurried away with a squeak. Kelda rose, shaking off snow, and made to stalk after him. Her father grabbed clumsily hold of her arm, hard enough to make her gasp, and glared down at her.

"Kelda!" he shouted. "Gods damn it, Kelda, what's wrong with you?"

The wolf was struggling to its feet now, lunging at the bars and snapping.

"What's wrong with it?" Jek cried fearfully. "It's going crazy!"

"Get away from it, Kelda," her father said, hefting his spear.

"Leave it alone! It's just an old wolf that hasn't done anything wrong!"

"It's a menace, and we have to kill it."

"Tovold? What's going on here?"

A tall, thin man with a receding hairline strode into the square. Kelda's father straightened, tugging at his parka.

"Afternoon, mayor. Just showing my daughter and her friends this here wolf I caught."

"Daaaad!" Jek ran up to his father, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "Dad, Kelda hit me!"

"He was talking about my mom!" Kelda retorted.

"Ahh, Jek, Jek, Jek." The mayor shook his head, drawing himself up to his full height. "We really should try to be kind to those less fortunate than ourselves, now, shouldn't we?"

"Yessir," Jek said begrudgingly.

"Kelda can't help it that the gods took her mother after she birthed her, and her father can't help his little drinking habit."

"I'm right here, you know," Kelda muttered.

"Yes you are, darling, aren't you?" The mayor ruffled her hair, and she ducked away with a scowl. "Now, no more fighting, hmm? It isn't the proper thing for girls to do." He beckoned to Kelda's father. "Tovold, come here. I have something I need to talk to you about."

Her father trotted after him, obedient as a dog. Jek folded his arm and glared at her.

"You're trouble, Kelda. Women always are."

She opened her mouth to retort as one of the other boys elbowed Jek in the ribs.

"Hey, Jek. Look who showed up for the show."

Jek turned and scowled.

"Ugh. Yuck. It's that spooky witch-boy."

A small figure stood at the edge of the square, watching them from beneath the shadows of a fur-lined hood, silent and unmoving. The children bunched together, muttering to each other.

"He's so weird," a girl stage-whispered. "I mean...what even is he? Ew!"

"I heard his mother was an elf."

"I heard she was a troll!"

"Yuck!"

"Hey, witch-boy!" Jek swaggered forward. "I thought I told you not to come around here anymore. Your kind ain't welcome here."

The witch boy took a step forward, and Jek took a step back, looked around at his friends, and rallied.

"Huh, look at you, you freak. What are you doing out here? You think you're a person? Get out of here! You're not a person, you're- you're a thing!"

"And you're an idiot," Kelda snapped. "He's got just as much right to be here as you do."

"No he don't! My dad's the mayor, and he doesn't even have a dad, or a mom, either. He doesn't even have a name!"

"What's he ever done to you? Leave him alone!"

"What's it to you? You some kind of witch-lover?" Jek looked over his shoulder. "Hey, witch boy, I think we found you a girlfrie- hey, where'd he go?"

"You scared him off, Jek."

"You bet I did." Jek glared at Kelda. "We'll deal with you later. You better keep out of our way, or you'll be sorry."

She made a face at his retreating back and sat down next to the cage, staring at the wolf. She sighed, resting her chin on her mittened hands.

"Poor old thing," she said softly. "You look hungry." She felt around in her pocket, pulled out a length of seal jerky. "Here, I bet nobody's even fed you."

The wolf licked up the jerky and looked up expectantly, red tongue lolling.

"That's all I've got, sorry.

"Kelda!"

"Coming, Dad!" She turned back to the wolf. "That's my dad calling me. I...I'll come back later with something to eat."

She scampered away into the falling snow.

Later that night, after Tovold had drunken himself into a stupor, she slipped out of the ramshackle little house with a caribou haunch tucked under her parka. She crept into the village square, hiding in the shadows from the torchlight.

"Hey, it's me!" she whispered.

The wolf looked up at the sound of her voice and whined. She crept nervously towards the cage and held out the haunch. The wolf sniffed it hesitantly.

"It's okay," she whispered. "Go on, you can take it."

The wolf looked into her eyes, and then pulled the leg from her hands with a sharp tug and dragged it into the corner of the cage. She sat on her haunches, watching it.

"You poor old thing," she said. "It isn't right, keeping you in a cage like this, even if you are a seal-killer."

She heard boots crunch on the snow behind her and started around with a squeak. The witch boy cocked his head, studying her.

"Oh, it's you," Kelda said, relaxing. "Did you come to look at the wolf, too?"

He sat next to her, silent.

"I've been feeding him," Kelda confessed. "I know I shouldn't, my dad would have a fit, but I just feel so sorry for him, stuck in there. Poor thing."

"Like you feel sorry for me?"

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, taken aback by the bitterness in his voice.

"I don't feel sorry for you," she said tentatively. "I mean, I'm sorry for how the other kids treat you, sure, but they're just stupid. They don't matter, not to me."

"They'd like you better if you joined them, you know."

"No, they wouldn't. I don't have a mom, either, remember? And my dad's not much better. Besides." She made a spitting motion. "They're a bunch of cowards. Remember that time I wanted to go out on the ice to look at that shipwreck, the one with all the bodies? Nobody'd come out there with me but you."

The wolf whined and dragged itself closer. The witch boy leaned forward, curious, and touched its fur through the bars. It sighed and leaned against his hand.

"Oh, wow, he really likes you!" Kelda exclaimed. "Do you...do you think he'd let me pet him?"

The witch boy just shrugged. Kelda put out a tentative hand and stroked its flank. Beneath the coarse guard fur, it was surprisingly soft. The wolf heaved a weary sigh and closed its amber eye.

"Hey, can I ask you a question?"

The witch boy shrugged again.

"D'you remember your mum at all?"

"Barely. I just remember she seemed sad a lot. I can't hardly remember what she looked like."

"Was she human?"

"She wasn't a troll, if that's what you mean!"

"I was just asking, is all! Come on, you know I didn't mean anything by it."

"I think she must have been human, from what I can remember, but I don't know." He glared at the snow. "Who cares about that lousy bitch, anyway? She weren't a proper mother Proper mothers don't leave their sons out in the snow."

"What about your dad?"

"I never met him."

"I wish I could remember my mom. She died having me. Now all I've got's my lousy drunk dad. He does his best by me, but he says he drinks all the time 'cause he misses her." She swiped at her cheeks, embarrassed. "Hey, do you think you look like him?"

"Who, your dad?"

"No, yours, silly!" She punched him in the shoulder. "I've known you since you first showed up here, and I've never even seen what you look like!"

He hunched his shoulders, looking away.

"Eh."

"Come on, I'm curious! You wear that stupid scarf all the time, I've hardly seen you indoors, even."

"Hey, you gave me this stupid scarf, remember?"

"Please?"

"No."

"Coooome on, I just wanna know! I don't care if you have snaggly teeth or a pug nose or even if you're covered in pox, you're my friend, and I want to know what you look like, you dummy!"

"Ugh. Fiiiiine."

He yanked the scarf down and glared at her. She gaped, open-mouthed at the strange whirling marks that lined his cheekbones, curled around his mouth and over his chin.

"Oh, wow. You...you really are strange, aren't you?"

He pulled the scarf back up and stood, scowling.

"Thanks, Kelda. I know I'm ugly."

"What? No, you're not ugly, just...just different, that's all." She tugged at his hand. "You look...er...nice."

"Nice?" he asked skeptically.

"Well, er, not nice, I mean- er, what I mean to say is, well, I like it. I like you. I mean-"

The wolf whimpered. Kelda rubbed her flaming cheeks.

"Anyways, you're not ugly," she muttered.

He sat down beside her and studied her.

"You're not ugly, either," he declared.

"Gee, thanks."

"Hey." He nudged her elbow. "Do you wanna see something really amazing?"

"Like what?"

"Look."

He closed a gloved hand tight, opened to reveal a small bloom of crackling blue flame. She gasped, grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand closer.

"What is it? How are you-"

"It's magic." He closed his hand, and the flame vanished.

"How long have you been able to do that?" she asked, turning his hand over and back again, incredulous.

"I've always been able to do it, but I haven't been able to control it much until now." He rubbed his bare shoulders self-consciously "I feel like I've been asleep for a long time...and now, finally, something inside me is starting to wake up."

She shivered. The wolf looked up an let out a mournful howl, then dropped its head to its paws, whining.

"Poor old thing," she said. "He shouldn't be trapped in a cage like that. It isn't fair."

The wolf huffed and settled down to gnaw on the bone. Kelda rose into a crouch, looking up at the village walls. The guards were nowhere to be seen- on a night this cold, they would probably all be indoors, drinking mulled wine. The gates were open a crack, wide enough to let any straggling hunters or seal shepherds through.

"Right," she whispered. "I'm letting him go." She strained against the bolt. "Come on, help me!"

He shrugged and rose to join her. The bolt slid back with a loud clank, and the door creaked open with a shriek of rust. She gasped, and he pulled her back into the shadows.

"Shhh!"

They held their breath, listening. The snowy silence remained undisturbed. In the cage, the wolf rose to its feet with a questioning rumble.

"Go on," Kelda whispered. "Hurry."

The wolf limped from the cage, carrying the haunch in its mouth. It stopped once, looking back at them.

"Go, run!" she whispered again.

The wolf shook itself and limped swiftly through the gates and into the night. Kelda let out a shuddering sigh.

"Gods! I thought for sure we'd be caught!" She looked around, biting her lip. "I'd better get home before my dad wakes up and wonders where I've gone." She reached out and squeezed his hand, blushed, and pulled away. "Goodnight, witch boy."

-x-

"Kelda!"

Her father shook her awake, out of a dream of wolves and ice and fire. She rubbed blearily at her eyes, disoriented.

"Dad? What? What's wrong?"

"Kelda, the wolf's gone! Somebody let it out last night. Where is the witch boy?"

"What?" She sat up, blinking sleepily.

"Come on, Kelda, I know you spend time with that creepy little brat, even though I've told you to stay away from him a thousand times. Where's he lurking?"

"Tovold, please, allow me." The mayor leaned over her father's shoulder and gave her a saccharine smile. "We just want to talk to your little friend, Kelda. Find out why he let the wolf out. Makes sure he knows that's not really the right thing to do."

"I...I don't know where he is!"

"Kelda," her father said warningly.

"It's true, dad, I don't!"

"Don't worry, father." Jek poked his head around the door and gave her a nasty grin. "I know where he likes to hide."

"Tell him I want to talk to him, Jek."

"Oh, trust me, dad, I'll do just that," he snickered, and raced away.

"Gods above." The mayor shook his head. "First there's all this talk of demons in the woods, and now the Midwinter sacrifice has escaped. What else could go wrong today?"

"Dad?" Kelda slipped out of bed and pulled on her parka. "I'm going to go...help Jek, alright?"

"Good girl, Kelda." He ruffled her hair absently as she ducked out the door.

Something was watching her from the woods. She shivered as she hurried up the snowy path on the outskirts of the village, watching the black boughs for movement. Shadows flitted from tree to tree, and the air felt charged with expectation.

A high-pitched shout shattered her reverie, and she ran towards the sound.

"Not so brave, are you now, witch-boy? Now that there's just one of you and all of us!"

"Leave him alone!" She shouted, cresting the hill, and then stopped short as the other children raced past her, shrieking.

"Get to the fort!" she heard Jek shout. "He'll never get us there!"

The witch boy was surrounded by strange, hunched creatures, huddled about him in an attitude of reverence. Flat, scabrous heads rose as she approached, and yellow eyes watched her hungrily.

"Witch boy?" she said uncertainly. "Are you alright?"

She'd fight them if they tried to hurt him, she thought fiercely. She didn't know what they were, and she wasn't sure if she liked the look of them.

He was holding a broken branch, shoulders shaking. He glanced at her, and then he laughed aloud, a sound that sent a strange, cold thrill through her soul.

"What _are _these things?"

"Kelda!" he said. "I think these are...they are my friends. Or...servants. Or something."

"Master!" one of the creatures cried, in a high, sharp whine.

"Master!" the others shouted.

"Master?" Kelda asked, cocked her head. She came closer, grabbed one of the creatures by the ears, turning it this way and that. "Are they Midwinter demons? They're kind of cute!"

"Cuuuute?" the creature squealed, backpedaling out of her reach.

"They said they're something called 'minions'. I don't know what that means."

"Huh. Funny-looking little things, aren't they?" She grinned at him. "I know where Jek and his lot went. Come on, I'll show you the way to their fort!"

She raced with them across the snow, wondering if she was dreaming. She stood with him on top of the cliff overlooking the fort, watching the minions herding the other children about, gleeful as puppies.

"D'you want to go to the Midwinter's Eve festival with me?" she asked shyly, tucking her hair behind her ear.

He kicked a snowdrift sullenly.

"They're not letting me through the gates 'cause of what happened with that wolf."

"That's not fair, I was the one who let it out! I tried to tell the grown ups, but they wouldn't listen to me."

He brightened suddenly, grabbed her by the hand.

"I think I know how I can get us in, though! Come on!"

-x-

"This will never work," Kelda whispered.

"It'll totally work! Trust me! Just act natural!"

"There's nothing natural about any of this!"

"Shhh! We're almost at the gate!"

Kelda glanced back nervously. The minions were hidden deep inside stolen parkas, long ears tucked inside furry hoods, looking entirely unlike human children. One of them started whistling innocently. Another flopped down and scratched at its ear like a dog until another kicked it. It popped back to its feet, looking shame-faced.

"Right," Kelda said. "Here goes nothing."

She pressed her face to the gate, standing up on tiptoe.

"Hello!" She called. "We're here for the Midwinter Festival! Please let us in?"

"Oh, hello, kiddies." A guard opened the gate and stood next to it, swaying, the smell of Midwinter cheer heavy on his breath. "Come right- hic!- Come right in."

They hurried past into the main square, Kelda's heart in her throat. The man stared after them, scratching his head.

"Buncha scrawny-looking kids," he muttered. "Mothers' ain't feeding 'em enough. Sad."

"Look!" The witch boy elbowed her in the ribs. "Fireworks! Have you ever lit one of those off, Kelda? You have to try it, it's so much fun!"

"We're not supposed to touch those," Kelda said uncertainly. "The grownups said-"

"Ah, what do they know? Come on, I'll help you up!"

He clambered on top of the crate that held the rockets, held a hand down to her. She hesitated, and he pulled the scarf down and made a face at her.

"Come on, scaredy!"

"I'm not scared!" she snapped, took his hand. "I just don't want you to get in more trouble."

"Ah, what does it matter? They don't like me anyways, what are they going to do, yell at me some more? Kick me out of the foundling's home? I wouldn't go back there if they paid me!"

"Where've you been sleeping, anyways?"

"Eh, there's an old rotted-out boat near here that's not too bad. S'warm, at least. And I've gotten pretty good at catching rabbits. Help me with this, will you?"

She helped him pull a rocket free from the pile. He settled it on the snow, grinned at her.

"You should come see it sometime," he said, almost shyly. "I'll roast you a rabbit."

"That sounds...nice."

"D'you have any matches?"

She felt her pockets.

"I think I"ve got a bit of flint in my pocket-"

"Hey! What are you kids doing up there?"

"Too late!" the witch boy cried cheerfully.

Magic sparked from his fingertips, and the fuse of the firework burst into flame. Kelda squeaked as the rocket spun, blew past them, singeing the fur on her parka as the witch boy knocked her into the snow.

There was a terrific crackling, a horrible sound of tearing wood, and then the Midwinter's tree in the center of the square toppled, blazing.

"Oh my gods," Kelda said slowly, poking her head out of the snow drift. "We are going to be in so much trouble."

The witch boy looked at her, and then he started to laugh. After a minute, she started to laugh, too.

"They're going to kill us," she giggled.

"I know!"

"Let's get out of here before anybody comes looking for us!"

The air shook, sizzled with heat, and the village bells began to ring the alarm. She turned, gaping, saw people running past them, carrying children, seals, whatever they could salvage. Fire licked yellow at the snow.

"We didn't do _that_," the witch boy said slowly. "What- what was that?"

"I don't know. Come on, let's go see!"

She pelted up the rickety wooden stairs to the wall, heard him running after her. The little minion creatures had scattered in the chaos. She stopped short beside the mayor and a guard, tugged at his parka.

"What's going on?" She asked.

"Empire," the guard said darkly.

"Why ate they here?" the mayor fretted. "We've paid our taxes, surely we don't have anything they'd want!"

She looked over the wall. Lines of soldiers stood in front of a vast wooden machine, the likes of which she'd never seen before. As she watched, the soldiers cranked it into position, backs straining, loaded it with another stone.

"A catapult!" the mayor gasped. "What on earth?"

"Nordberg!" a legionnaire bellowed. "Bring out your magic users so that they may be cleansed, by order of your new governor, Borius!"

"New governor?" the mayor asked, going white.

"We have no magic users here!" the guard shouted back. "We're simple people of the land!"

"It's no use lying," the legionnaire snapped. "The Sentinels have spoken!"

"Sentinels?" the mayor gasped. "Here? Why here?"

"Look," Kelda whispered, throat going dry.

A pair of hooded figures, far taller than a man, stood hunched at the base of the catapult, empty hoods questing at the air. The witch boy shifted, uneasy, beside her, and both the faceless heads snapped towards them. She shivered, almost unconsciously slipped her hand into his.

"Surrender your magic users or we will cleanse your whole town!"

"We don't-" the mayor began to protest.

The guard stopped him, eyes glittering beneath his parka.

"No, sir. We _do_ have one."

"Who?" the mayor followed his gaze. "Ah, yes, of course."

Before Kelda could react, the guard pulled the witch-boy away, yanking her hand out of his. She lunged for his hand, frantic, as the guard unceremoniously tossed him over the gate.

"No!" she screamed.

The guard caught her as she tried to go after him, held her back from the ledge. She bit at his arm, kicking helplessly.

"No, let me go!"

Below, the witch boy was gaining his feet, shaking his head, dazed. She looked up, saw a line of soldiers advancing cautiously. She glared up at the mayor.

"What do they mean, _cleansed_?" she demanded.

He wouldn't meet her eyes.

"What do they _mean_?" she shouted.

"Look!" the guard gasped.

Brown bodies boiled through the gate, leaping gleefully to meet the soldiers. The witch boy shook his head once more, and staggered after them.

"Go," Kelda shouted. "Run!"

"He's getting away," the mayor said tersely.

"Don't worry, those soldiers will bring him down," the guard said darkly.

"Let go of me!" Kelda kicked him in the ribs, and he swore, dragging her away from the walls. "I _hate _you!"

The mayor stared at her, white-faced. She glared at him, furious, and then looked past him, saw the line of blazing buildings along the wall.

"Dad!" she shouted, struggling to break free. "Let me go, my dad's in there!"

She broke away from the guard, raced to her hut, the mayor close behind her. He pulled her away with a gasp, but it was too late- she had seen her father's broken body under a beam. She buried her face in his hip with a cry.

"I'm sorry, Kelda," the mayor whispered. "I'm so sorry."

She shivered and let go of his leg, took a few steps and sank down to her knees in the snow. She realized her face was wet, realized she was crying. She stared at the snow, wondering how she'd ended up here.

"Kelda," the mayor said, almost kindly, held down a hand. "Come with me. You can stay with us until we find a place for you."

She took his hand, not knowing what else to do. From below, she could hear the tramp of booted feet, the clash of armor. She looked down, saw bright phalanxes of soldiers filling the street.

"The Empire is here," the mayor said, sounding resigned. "Let's go greet them."

She followed him down to the gates. The soldiers tensed, and she could see bowmen in the back, crossbows trained on the two of them. A tall, hatchet-faced man strode towards them, shaking snow irritably from his shoes. A squat, fat man, ugly as any walrus, struggled after him.

The hooded figures drifted after them. Kelda felt a cold settle into her bones, seeing them. Faceless hoods turned their depths to her, questing-

"That's quite enough," the thin man barked. "Logarius, take the sentinels back to the Capitol, will you? Wouldn't want them spooking the natives."

The figures turned away, following the soldiers, and Kelda felt the cold claws around her heart ease their grip. The mayor patted her head absent-mindedly, stepped forward.

"Welcome to Nordberg, my lords," he said, kneeling. "I am Urvark, Mayor of this town."

"Not anymore, I'm afraid." The tall man gave him a dismissive look. "My brother Borius is now governor of Nordberg and its surrounding territories."

"Ah." The mayor looked for a moment like he might protest, bowed his head instead. "Yes, my lord."

The fat man puffed to a stop next to his brother, looked around, frowning.

"Marius, this place is hardly the way you described," he whined. "It's so _cold_! And where am I supposed to live? There's nothing but quaint little shacks for miles." He glared at the mayor with piggy little eyes. "You! Show me to your house. I'll make it my capitol building until you slaves have my villa built."

"Ah, my house, my lord?" the mayor asked hesitantly. "But, where will my family and I go?"

"I'm sure you'll figure something out," Borius said haughtily. "I'm not a micromanager, I'm a big-picture sort of person."

"Ah...yes, my lord."

"I see you're already winning the respect and admiration of the populace," Marius said snidely.

"Oh, do shut up, Marius, this is my town, and I'll run it my way." His piggy eyes settled on Kelda, and she stared back. "Hmm. Mayor, is this your daughter?"

"My daughter?" The mayor glanced at her, startled. "No, my lord. This is Kelda, a- an orphan girl."

"I don't care what her name is." Meaty hands seized her chin, turning her face this way and that. "Is she strong? A hard worker?"

"Yes, of course, my lord."

Borius pried Kelda's mouth open, peering at her teeth. She stared up at him, non-plussed.

"She'll do," he declared. "I have need of a new personal slave. My last proved...unsatisfactory, and I had to have him sent to the Arena. Sad, really."

"Very well, my lord," the mayor said.

"Come with me, girl. This place is filthy, and it's well past time for my afternoon bath."

"I shall leave Nordberg in your capable hands, brother," Marius said.

Kelda followed the new Governor, flanked by soldiers, feeling numb. From outside the walls, wolves began to howl. She looked back at the fire on the walls, at the frozen night sky, and then, empty-hearted, turned and followed her new captors out of the snow.


	3. Chapter 3

The seal bull barked and sniffed the air. Kelda froze behind a pile of broken ice, gripping her spear until her knuckles ached.

_I am a ghost_, she thought. _I am a shadow, I am a thought, you don't see me, you don't smell me-_

The bull snorted and resumed its meandering course along the ice shelf, searching for a mate. Kelda breathed out and crept forward, testing the ice in front of her cautiously with the butt of her spear. Bulls were stupid during the breeding season, which made them easier to hunt- but also much more dangerous.

In her opinion, that just made it more fun.

This bull was an old fellow, almost twenty feet long, covered in old scars and heavy muscle. She'd been stalking him for almost a full day now. She glanced up at the sun, heavy and low in the sky, casting red rays over the snow. She'd have to decide soon whether or not to attack now, or go back to camp for the night.

The bull snorted and turned towards her again, huffing aggressively. It wagged its massive head back and forth, peering dubiously at the rocks with tiny eyes hidden in folds of fat.

"Right," she whispered to herself.

It knew that she- or some other predator- was there. She'd have to move fast, before it decided to charge her- or, worse, slip off into the frigid ocean.

The bull looked around, bellowing a challenge to the air. She seized the opportunity and raced to the cover of a pile of rocks to its left, holding her spear at the ready. The bull humped its way clumsily forward towards where she had just been lurking, barking furiously.

She exploded from cover as it passed her, leapt onto its back and plunged the spear into its neck. It screamed and thrashed violently, hurling her from its shoulders to the sea ice, leaving her spear stuck beyond her reach.

"Shit!"

She rolled to her feet and dodged as the bull charged her, felt its sharp teeth tear the skin of her thigh. She grabbed the thick folds of its neck and dragged herself astride it, blood streaming down her leg. The seal bull roared, snapping furiously at her, flailing its massive tail. She pulled her spear loose and jammed it, as hard as she could, into the seal's head, twisted. The bull bellowed, writhing on the crimson snow. She leapt out of the way and crouched beside it, watching its death throes.

It bled out quickly, light fading from its tiny eyes with a final whimper. She pulled her spear free and touched the bloodied blade to her forehead in a salute.

"Well fought, old fellow," she said, grinning. "But I won this one."

She bandaged her leg with scraps torn from her jacket and began the laborious process of skinning and dressing the bull. By the time she was done, the sun was almost below the snow-covered hills, and carrion birds were squabbling over the entrails. She finished burying the meat, marking the spot with a bright strip of fabric. She'd passed a group of hunters on her way out- she'd tell them where she'd buried the meat, and they could bring the frozen portions back to the village. She bundled the skin up and slung it across her shoulders, then began the weary limp back to her camp, leaning on her spear.

As she walked up to her camp she heard voices. She frowned, debating whether or not she should throw the pelt away and run.

"Slave girl!"

She'd been spotted. She sighed and limped closer. Men in bright armor clustered around her simple skin tent. What meager belongings she'd left at the campsite had been scattered over the snow.

"Slave girl, what is the meaning of this?"

"Hello, Cassius. I felt like going hunting, so I went."

"In trousers?!"

"You can hardly expect me to fight a charging seal bull in a skirt, can you?" She tossed the bloody pelt to a legionnaire. "Hold this for me, will you?"

Cassius sighed and passed a hand over his eyes.

"Disarm her, will you?" he asked a soldier petulantly.

Kelda knelt and began dismantling her tent, laying her spear in the snow beside her.

"Touch that, and I'll stick it through your guts," she said conversationally.

The soldiers glanced nervously at each other. Kelda rolled up her things in the sealskin tent and bundled it onto her back.

"Right," she said, levering herself to her feet. "I suppose Borius wants me back now, does he?"

"If you would be so kind," Cassius said cooly.

"Hmph." She looked around and grinned. "Wow, a whole legion, just for little old me? Cassius, I'm flattered."

He stared at her, icy, held out his hand.

"Slave girl. Give me the weapon."

"Make your own." She gripped it tightly, glaring at him. She'd made a new spear for each of the thirteen winters she'd been a slave, had spent weeks carving the hilt with delicate runes and hunting charms, and she'd be damned if she'd let some filthy Imperial get his prints all over it.

"Listen to me well, girl," Cassius growled, exasperated. "If we go back and tell our dear Governor that you slipped and quite tragically drowned, he wouldn't even bat an eye. The glorious empire has no room for troublemakers like you, so allow me to use a metaphor even your little barbarian mind will understand. You are on thin ice, slave, and it's breaking apart beneath your furry little boots."

She glared at him, then thrust the spear point-down into the snow and limped away.

"We should head back to the village," she growled. "You lot don't want to be stuck out here at night. There's wolves and worse in these hills."

-x-

Kelda woke from a dream of fire and lightning to a thunderous explosion that rocked her shoddy little bed in the slave quarters. She sat up, bleary-eyed, rubbing her cheeks.

"What?"

"Kelda!" Another slave, mousy and frightened-looking, raced into the room, almost dropping the vase she was carrying. "Kelda, come quickly, the Governor wants you!"

"What's going on?" she asked groggily, pulling on her shoes.

"Some kind of army's attacking! They blew up the gates! Folks are saying that they're demons or something!" She shook her head. "And on Midwinter's Eve, too! For shame! Have they no decency?"

"Ooh, they sound like fun!"

The other woman stared at her in disapproval.

"For god's sake, Kelda, what's wrong with you?" She snapped. "You'd better hurry up. The Governor doesn't like to be kept waiting on his bath."

"How can he bathe at a time like this?" Kelda demanded.

"Word is his brother's come to see what all the fuss is about."

"Who, Marius? Coming _here_? I thought he spent all his time tonguing the emperor's ass at the Capitol."

"_Kelda!_" the other slave snapped, scandalized. "Go, before he has you whipped, again!"

"I'm going, I'm going."

Kelda hurried into the hall, gingerly testing her weight on her injured leg. The wound had been mostly superficial, but it still stung with every step. She glanced at the heavy door of Borius' villa. It was barred and guarded by four legionaries. She debated for a moment whether or not she could break past them and out into the fracas in the village, shook her head after a moment. She couldn't fight four soldiers on her own, and her injured leg would slow her down if she tried to escape in the chaos. She shuddered, gathering her willpower, and entered Borius' chambers.

The stench hit her almost as soon as she entered, the reek of rotting food and heavy perfume. No matter how fast the slaves worked, they could never seem to keep the Governor's chambers clean.

"Ah, slave girl, there you are." The Governor beckoned her to his sumptuous bed with a bloated, ring-crusted hand. "Help me to my bath."

He slung a flabby arm around her shoulders as she hauled him upright. She was relieved to see that he was wearing a wine-stained nightgown, at least. He leaned close to her, blinking his piggy eyes up at her, reminding her of the old seal.

"Barbarians are attacking, you know," he said petulantly. "It's dreadful, really. Can't they see we've given you people everything? Fine food, culture, the arts-"

"An assortment of interesting smells," Kelda said, trying to only breathe through her mouth.

"Precisely." Borius swung his ponderous girth out of the bed. "Now, slave, unfortunately we must hurry. My tedious brother is coming to pay my little town a visit. He has the absolute gall to claim that I don't know how to control you people."

"I can't imagine why," Kelda said dryly.

"To the baths, slave. I am in need of a thorough scrubbing."

"Sir!" A legionnaire clattered to a stop in the hallway, saluting. "The demons have broken through the gate. They're making their way towards the temple. We can't hold them back!"

Borius made a disgusted noise.

"I supposed I have to do everything myself around here," he whined.

Kelda rolled her eyes.

"I supposed there's no time for my morning bath, either."

"Uh...you're really needed outside, sir."

Borius sighed, and held out his arms.

"Oh, very well. Slave, dress me."

Kelda stripped off his nightgown, holding her breath, and dressed him quickly, trying not to let her eyes focus on his fleshy pink folds.

"These demons," she asked the soldier. "What do they look like?"

"Oh, they're horrible! They have awful glowing eyes and teeth like knives, and all manner of strange things upon their heads!"

"Rubbish," said Borius dismissively. "No doubt they're rebels in some sort of costume designed to frighten the locals. There's no such thing as demons."

He waddled outside, shivering in the cold despite his bulk. Kelda and the soldier followed close behind. Borius stopped short, gaping.

"D-demons!" he exclaimed. "My gods, man, they're demons!"

"I did inform you of that, sir."

A mass of creatures broiled about the marble temple, gleefully tearing the graceful pillars down. Kelda squinted in the sun, trying to see. There was something strangely familiar about them- something about the way they moved. And there, in the back, a tall figure in black-

"I am not at home to demons!" Borius stuttered, trying to back into the villa.

"Sir, please!" The legionnaire demanded, holding onto his shoulder. "We need your help!"

"I must bring word of this affront to the Emperor! Pack my things, slave girl, we must leave at once!"

"Sir, please, the troops need you here!"

"The Emperor must be informed!" Borius shook his fist towards the temple. "You- you've _ruined_ my Midwinter's Eve! We'll see what Emperor Solarius has to say about this!"

"I'm sure the Emperor will be heartbroken ," Kelda said snidely. "He'll probably take it real personally, I bet."

"Slave girl, go pack my bags!"

There was a sudden flash of blinding blue light. A tall, thin man with all the charm of a vulture stepped through a bright portal, looked Borius up and down with disdain. Borius blinked at him piggishly.

"Marius!" he exclaimed in surprise. "Where- where did you come from?"

Marius walked to the overlook, peered down at the temple through his monocle.

"Hmm." He looked at them with contempt. "Emperor Solarius is very concerned, brother, that you have allowed Nordberg to be most violently raided by a- a magical barbarian!"

"Er, the situation is under control, Marius. My men are rooting out the source." Borius nodded at the legionnaire, who looked confused. He nodded at him again, more emphatically, made little shooing motions with his hands.

"Oohhh," the soldier said, understanding, saluted, and raced away.

"Well, they had better do," Marius snapped, eyeing the soldier with scorn. "You were sent here to prove yourself as governor, and show you've a backbone beneath that blubber!"

"He hasn't," Kelda replied. "It's blubber all the way through."

Marius gave her a quizzical look, as if she were a particularly clever dog that had just imitated human speech.

"You should really whip that one more often, Borius," he said.

"Ah, yes, but to be honest, it's hard to find a soldier willing to do it."

"Whatever for?"

"I think they're scared of her."

"Well, do it yourself, then."

"Honestly, do you really think he can even lift his arms above his head?" Kelda asked. "I'm right here, you know."

"How troublesome." Marius shook his head. "Deal with the barbarians, little brother, and then we'll see about handling this slave of yours."

"I'd like to see you try!"

"Ugh, fine." Borius waved a hand. "Cassius! Cassius, where are you?"

"Here, sir!" Cassius jogged out of the villa, hastily buckling his pants, boots unlaced. "One of the lads just woke me. What's going on?"

"Take a regiment and deal with these barbarians, will you? Crush them, it's almost time for my lunchtime bath."

"Sir!" Cassius saluted and clattered away.

Marius frowned, watching him.

"Really, little brother. I had hoped that, as it is very nearly noon, your soldiers would be awake and dressed. I see that my hopes were unfounded."

'Everything is under control!" Borius snapped. "How am I supposed to work with you chattering like a bloody magpie in my ear?"

"Like a _magpie_, you fat sod?"

"You do look a bit like a magpie," Kelda mused.

"Fat sod?"

"Honestly, Borius, I would have thought you could handle Governorship of one tiny town!"

"Oh, do shut up, Marius!"

Kelda tuned out the sound of the argument, leaning forward, trying to get a better view of the barbarian horde. They had torn down the temple now- that stark reminder of Empire occupation- and were moving swiftly through the village. She smelled something strangely familiar- the smell of wood smoke and lightning. The air felt charged, ready for a storm. As she watched, the black figure- a man, maybe, or a horned demon?- raised a hand, and blue light crackled from his fist to strike a soldier.

"No," she whispered, incredulous. "No, it can't be! Can it?"

The demons were leaping, scrabbling forward, tearing through regiments like paper. She saw Cassius fall, face frozen in a blank mask of surprise, as the figure in black cut him down with an axe as tall as a man. Her heart leapt in her chest.

"No," she whispered again, hands shaking, afraid to hope. "No, it's not- it can't-"

"Slave girl!" Borius snapped. "Pack my things, we're leaving!"

"Borius, you useless lump! If you leave now, I swear to you you'll never hold a government position again!"

Borius whirled on his brother, suddenly suspicious.

"Marius! You were the one who sent me here, weren't you?"

Marius stared at him coldly.

"I don't know what you mean, Borius."

"You were the one who sent me to this godsforsaken, dangerous backwater, just because you knew Solarius favored me!"

"You blubbery fool! Always thinking it's all about you! No wonder mama left us!"

"Wow." Kelda leaned back, smirking. "I was...not expecting things to get quite _that_ awkard."

"Don't you bring mama into this!" Borius snarled, furious, jowls shaking. "That's it! I'm not speaking to you anymore! I'll handle this myself!"

"I'm so glad we're governed by children," Kelda said.

"Fine, handle it yourself, then! But don't come crying to me when you ruin everything!"

Kelda turned away, rolling her eyes, looking for the barbarians. The village was suddenly, eerily silent. Soldiers lay groaning, and the snow was stained red. But the barbarian force was nowhere to be seen-

There was a sudden grate of stone on stone behind her. She whirled, startled, for a second not comprehending what she saw. The vast, vainglorious statue of Borius atop the villa was moving forward- and then, before anyone could move or think, it was plummeting down.

She gasped. Marius swore. Borius shrieked. The statue hit him like a juggernaut, pinning him to the ground. She looked up, met burning golden eyes beneath a black helm.

"Oh my gods," she whispered, and then, "Witch boy! Witch boy, is it really you?"

Borius was groaning, flailing helplessly at his stone arms. She looked at him incredulously- how on earth was he still alive? He was tougher than she would have expected.

"Witch boy!" she shouted again.

The figure in black looked down at her, unreadable beneath the helmet. It was him, she though- she was sure of it! The soldiers said he'd drowned- they'd seen him go under, lost in the cold sea- but somehow, he was here. He was here, and he was tearing down everything she hated.

"You came back!" she said, wondering if she was dreaming.

Did the eyes hold a smile? He inclined his head to her, striding closer. She held out her arms in a plea.

"Get me out of here before he makes me start scrubbing again!" she said, and then laughed aloud.

"How dare you!" Marius was shaking with rage, held out one thin finger in admonition. "You have insulted the Emperor and my family! This will not go unpunished, mark my words!"

The armored man ignored him, striding closer. Marius swallowed hard and vanished in a pillar of blue light.

"Slave!" Borius coughed wetly. "Slave, get me out of here at once!"

Kelda looked down at him, grinning, heart soaring.

"No, no way!" He was already dead, she thought, and she was alive, and she was free. "Even your crevices have crevices. Yuck!"

She laughed, looked up at the warrior approaching her. The man cocked his head, staring down at Borius.

"Barbarian!" Borius extended a quivering hand towards him, imploring. "I- I surrender! Maybe we can come to some sort of compro- augh!"

The man swung his axe once, twice, and Borius' body went limp. The warrior gestured, and the demons beside him went to work on the statue, tearing it apart. He walked to the edge of the platform before the villa, surveying the town.

"Nordberg," he shouted, in a deep voice that sent a shiver all the way through her bones. "I control you. I am your Overlord. Kneel!"

Out on the streets, wave after wave of people dropped to their knees, their faces frightened. They knew him, too, Kelda realized, wondered what he'd do with them now that he'd returned.

"It's really you," she breathed. She reached out and hesitantly touched his shoulder. He glanced at her, startled. "Sorry. I just-" she swallowed hard. "They- they told me you were dead. They said you drowned. Obviously, they were wrong."

"Kelda?" he asked.

"Yes." She grinned up at him. "Yes, it's me. Why didn't you tell me you were alive, you idiot?"

"It's a long story."

Her grip tightened on his arm.

"Take me with you," she demanded. "Back to wherever it is you've been living."

"You want to come with us? What about your father?"

"He died when the empire attacked the village thirteen years ago. There's nothing for me here."

He stared down at her, silent. He was so _tall_, she thought, with shoulders broader than any man she'd ever met. She wondered what he looked like beneath all that armor. She blushed, clamping down on the thought.

"You know, I want to see bits of the world that aren't covered in snow," she said shyly, smiling up at him. "How about you and I get reacquainted? I'd like to know what you've been up to for all these years."

The ground shook, and the earth split as a black tower shot through the rock. She stepped back, eyes widening. The witch boy caught her arm.

"That leads to the netherworld. My home," he told her. "Do you still want to come with me?"

She grinned up at him.

"Perfect," she said. "Just let me pack my hunting gear."


	4. Chapter 4

She stepped onto the stone of the portal with the witch boy, the hair on her arms prickling with static.

"So, how does this wo-" she asked, turning towards him.

An invisible force caught her in its talons, seized her bodily and flung her down. She gasped, eyes squeezed tight, wind roaring in her ears, bright blue light arcing against her closed eyelids. She felt herself disintegrating, unraveling- and then solid stone was beneath her feet. She opened her eyes and sighed in relief. The witch boy's arm was tight around her waist. Even through the armor, she could feel the heat of his skin. She flushed.

"Um," she said. "You can let go of me now."

He let go hurriedly. She staggered a few steps, regained her balance, then stopped short, looking around.

She was in a cavernous throne room. Vast, rough-hewn pillars disappeared into the echoing darkness, and lava leaked from cracks in the living stone. Minions gibbered in the corners, chattering with excitement. The room was bigger than any hall she'd ever seen in her life. She swallowed hard, trying not to feel overwhelmed.

"So, this is your place, huh?" she asked nonchalantly. "Well, it certainly beats Nordberg. It's warm, for a start."

"Sire, welcome home!"

She turned, startled. A curious wizened creature toddled towards them, illuminated by a luminescent crystal suspended above its misshapen head. It wore a long cloak and a bone necklace, and sported whiskers that would have made any village elder green with envy. She blinked at it, nonplussed.

"I'm not sure about this thing, though," she said. "What is it? Some kind of walnut with ears?"

She reached out before the witch boy could stop her, tugged at the long ears.

"Er...that's Gnarl. He's my adviser. He raised me and taught me everything I know."

"Oh. Er. Sorry." Kelda held out her hand. "Hello, Gnarl. I'm Kelda."

He looked at her hand, bemused, and then cautiously offered a wizened paw.

"Greetings, Mistress Kelda. Welcome to the tower."

"You talk better than the other minions. Why's that?"

"I am very old, Mistress Kelda, and very wise."

"Wise?" the witch boy asked, amused.

"'Mistress' Kelda, hmm? I could get used to that!"

"Perhaps you and your new Mistress should visit the private quarters?" Gnarl suggested, wagging his bushy brows.

"Wait, _your_ mistress?" Kelda asked dubiously.

"Come, come!" A minion tugged at her fingers with a clawed hand. "I show Mistress to chambers!"

"Great! I can see where my fur rugs and hunting souvenirs will go!" She grinned up at the Overlord. "I shall meet you up there, witch boy. We'll discuss this whole 'mistress' thing then."

She followed the capering creature up a long set of stairs into a dark, dilapidated space. She looked around, frowning. Wooden scaffolding lines the walls, and the floor was thick with dust. A grimy fountain gurgled fitfully.

"Hmm," she said thoughtfully, turned to the little creature beside her.

"Go bring some of your friends up here. Have them bring buckets, water, rags, brooms...cleaning stuff, that sort of thing. I want them to scrub this place clean. You understand?"

"Yes, yes, Mistress!"

It scampered away with a clatter.

She wandered through the quarters, looking up at vast statues, trying heavy doors. She came to a place where the dust seemed less thick, followed a set of heavy footprints to a ragged red curtain. She pushed her way through, wrinkling her nose and sneezing. She could hardly see through the gloom, but she thought she saw something glinting like scales in the dark. She stepped forward, felt her shoe click against something heavy. She bent down, picked up a golden goblet encrusted with jewels.

"What on earth?"

She walked into the room, squinting. Gold coins and chests were heaped haphazardly in the corners, spilling over the tiled floor. A pile of furs lay in a corner, surrounded by dog-eared books. She knelt and picked one up, straining to see the cover.

"A Treatise on Wilde Magick," she read aloud, picked up another. "Children's Poems from the Northern Lands. Military Tacticks. The Art and Artifice of War."

She heard the sound of boots on stone, hastily stood and turned.

"Oh, hello, Witch boy. I hope you don't mind, but I've set some of your little friends to cleaning up the place." She gestured to the furs. "Is this where you've been sleeping this whole time?"

"Yes?" he pulled off his helm, looked at her quizzically. "It's much nicer than sleeping in a doorway out in the cold."

"Ah, this won't do," she said. "Don't you have a proper bed?"

"What do you mean, a proper bed?"

"I mean, something that isn't a pile of skins on the floor! And it's so dark in here, I can hardly see!"

"Ah, right. Candles. The minions will bring candles for you."

"Thank you." She paused, suddenly shy. "So...what have you been doing all these years?" She picked up one of the books. "Reading poetry?"

"I've been learning," he said slowly. "Training. Waiting. Planning."

"Planning what, exactly?"

He shrugged.

"The minions tell me that I am the Overlord. My blood speaks to me, says that they tell me truth. I am the latest in a long line of conquerors."

"First Nordberg, and then the world, hmm?"

"Something like that."

"I missed you, you know," she said quietly. "There was a part of me that never believed you were gone for good. But it had been so long, and things were so hard in Nordberg...I guess I didn't have the energy to keep hoping, even."

"I would have come back sooner if I could have. I wasn't strong enough, and the town was crawling with soldiers-"

"I wouldn't have expected you to. You were a _child_, for gods' sake. It was just lonely." She crossed her arms and shivered, looking up at him. 'What are you going to do with Nordberg?"

"I haven't decided yet."

"I don't think I'd care if you burned it to the ground."

"But it's your home."

"Hardly," she said bitterly. "After my dad died, there was nobody who'd take me in. They flung me on the tender mercies of Borius, and he made me his personal slave, which is unpleasant at any age, but doubly so when you're seven years old and have just lost your father and your best friend." She shuddered. "Borius liked his baths, and you wouldn't _believe_ some of the things that I found under all those folds. Once, a live beetle, just, ugh, crawling around in there."

"Beeeetles?"

A minion poked its bony head around the curtain, licking its lips.

"Not for you," the Overlord snapped. "Get out of here."

Its ears drooped, and it gave them both a look that was so tragic that Kelda had to laugh.

"Oh, but enough about all that," she said cheerfully. "He's dead, and we're not. How about you show me the rest of your place?"

"Alright. Are you hungry?"

"Huh, surprisingly enough after that conversation, yes."

"We'll make our way towards the great hall, then." He paused, dubious. "I'm not sure what Quaver's cooking today."

"Nothing involving beetles, I hope."

"It wouldn't be the first time."

"Yuck, really?" she peered up at him. "Wait, are you...are you teasing me? You're joking, right?"

Was he smiling? She couldn't tell in the dim light. He held the curtain open for her, courteous.

She stepped out into utter chaos. Minions were racing back and forth carrying candles, and somehow some of them had managed to set themselves on fire. Some were balancing on each other's shoulders, trying to light torches, mostly succeeding in singeing each other. A minion raced past her, covered in wax.

"It burns, it burns!"

There was a terrific crash as a pile of scaffolding collapsed, promptly burst into flames. The Overlord closed the curtain behind him and sighed in disgust.

"Gods damnit, not again."

"This happens often, does it?"

"They're...not very good at thinking for themselves."

"Well, at least they seem to be able to mostly think and walk at the same time, which puts them well ahead of your average Norbergian."

"Damn it," he said again, striding into the fray. "Get your head out of that, it's not a hat! Candles are _not_ a food." He punted a flaming minion into the grimy fountain. "Stop screaming, you're not going to drown." He picked another up by the ears, flung it towards the flames. "Go get the reds, and put that fire out." He gave her an exasperated look. "I don't know how they survived without me, to be honest."

She stared at him, seeing him in the light. He frowned.

"Is something wrong?"

"Um...er, no." She smiled slyly. 'Witch boy, I didn't know you'd grow up handsome."

He stared back at her, non-plussed. His sharp-angled face was covered with strangely shaped scars, and his skin was the stormy blue-grey of an angry sea. His hair was an unruly black riot, shadowing golden eyes.

"Er." She tucked her own unruly red hair behind her ear. "So! How about that tour, then!"

"Oh. Right! Right."

She followed him through vast, vaulted halls, heard the scratch and skitter of clawed feet on stone. Yellow eyes peered curiously at her out of the darkness. They walked through the throne room onto a rocky prominence that overlooked the netherworld.

"Oh." She grabbed his arm unconsciously, staggered back.

The fiery depths yawned at her feet. Vast rocks turned and stirred in the silent air, buoyed up by impossible magic. Windows winked from warrens carved into the living stone of stalactites. Far below, the burning heart of the world surged and roared.

"Come on." He stepped onto a floating stone platform, offered her his hand. "Don't worry. It's safe."

She took his hand, flushing, then gasped and clutched at him as the platform fell rapidly away from the outcrop, swooping towards a terrace below. The platform stopped at its destination with a jolt. He looked down at her, amused.

"You can let go of me now."

"Do you want me to?" she asked, winded.

"I-" he coughed. "I have something I want to show you. Come on, I think you'll like this!"

She followed him, trying to pull her hair back into place. He led her through a high archway, and she stopped abruptly.

A pack of wolves lay sleeping in a makeshift den. The floor was covered in straw, and she could see the last glimmer of daylight from a tunnel leading to the outside world. One of the wolves raised its head and barked, stood and shook itself, bounded to the Overlord, jumping up to lick at his face. The other wolves joined in, whining and wagging their tails, bouncing excitedly.

"They're just like dogs around you!" Kelda exclaimed, delighted.

"Look." He pointed.

An elderly wolf limped across the room to them, sat at the Overlord's feet with a sigh. He reached down and mussed its fur fondly.

"Recognize him?" he asked.

"Oh my gods." Kelda knelt, offered the wolf her hand to sniff. He whined, nuzzling at her palm. "It's the wolf we rescued! How is he still alive?"

"I figure it's the same reason Gnarl's still alive. There's something about being around all this magic that keeps him kicking."

Kelda buried her fingers in the old wolf's mane. He leaned his muzzle against her shoulder and sighed. She kissed the top of his head.

"I'm glad you made it, old timer," she whispered.

Another wolf bumped her shoulder with its nose. She laughed and stroked its ruff.

"Oh, hello, you. Oh, another one! Hello, do you want me to pet you, too?" She looked up, surrounded by grey bodies. "They're so friendly!"

"They really like you."

"Well, I like them, too. Do they have names?"

"I suppose. I've never asked."

"Ha! We'll, I'll name them, then. You, you'll be Scruff, you, you're a Fang, you're a- oof, you're a Smelly if I ever met one, and-"

The newly christened Smelly knocked her over and tugged playfully at her skirt. She laughed and wrapped her arms around the startled wolf, tumbling across the floor.

"Hey, come on, it wasn't that bad of a name!"

The other wolves barked excitedly, joined in the tangle. Kelda yelped, disappearing in a heap of furry bodies, pushed her way through and blinked up at the Overlord, straw stuck in her hair. Her stomach grumbled, and she gave him an embarrassed smile, picking fur off her sleeves.

"I think I'd like to go eat now."

He helped her up. She looked regretfully back at the wolves as they left.

'Can I come back and see them?"

He looked surprised. "Of course. You can go anywhere you like."

She smiled ruefully.

"I suppose I'm still getting used to that. After thirteen years of being someone else's slave. Oh, and speaking of which...what did Gnarl mean, 'your' mistress?"

"Ah." He looked a little embarrassed. "Gnarl is...very old-fashioned."

"Old-fashioned, huh? Well, I'm not yours, or anybody's. I'm my own now, and I'm never going to be anybody's slave ever again."

"I wasn't asking you to be."

"Good. Just as long as we're clear about that, witch boy." Her stomach growled as she caught the smell of something roasting ahead, and she quickened her pace, tugging at his arm. "Hurry up, I'm hungry!"

She sat beside him at a stone table on a dais in yet another cyclopean room. The hall was filled with minions, scrapping and arguing over food laid out on long wooden tables. In a corner nearby, some were attempting to play instruments, producing a strange, primitive music that was somehow not unpleasant. Minions in stained aprons ran to and fro, staggering under the weight of platters heaped with ground squirrel and forest mushrooms, dried kelp and roasted seal.

"Ah, Mistress Kelda!" A scrawny, one-eyed creature in jester's motley pulled itself up to its full height in front of her, doffed its jingling hat and gave her a courtly bow. "Welcome, welcome! The Beauty of Nordberg! The fair, foxy, fire-haired...er...maiden!"

"Is he making fun of me?" Kelda whispered.

"It's hard to tell sometimes," the witch boy whispered back.

"I have prepared a feast to celebrate your arrival!" Quaver declared proudly.

"It's not beetles, is it?" Kelda asked suspiciously.

Quaver deflated.

"Er, um, no, my lady. I'm sorry, it's seal and squirrel. Did you- did you want beetles?"

"Seal will be fine."

"Right away, mistress! Your wish is my command." The creature gave her another flowery bow and scurried away.

She turned to the Overlord, wrinkling her nose.

"What was _that_?" she asked.

"Oh. That was Quaver. He likes to think he's my jester." He put his hand in front of his mouth and leaned closer to her. "He's actually not really that funny."

"You don't say," she said drily.

"Am I too late for the baby seal course?" Gnarl asked despairingly, toddling up to the dais.

"Quaver's bringing it out now," Kelda told him. "Here, come sit with us."

He chuckled, sat beside her, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Don't mind if I do, mistress." He looked between the two of them, gave them a lecherous grin. 'So...how did you like your...quarters?"

How could someone put _that_ much innuendo into one word? Kelda shook her head, and the Overlord hid a smile, put his chin on a mailed fist.

"Well, it's dusty, drafty, it smells a bit strange, and it needs a good deal of work. But with a bit of elbow grease, I think we can whip it into shape."

"You- you can whip it?" He looked startled, then a faraway look came into his eyes. He stared into the middle distance, chuckling softly to himself.

"He gets like that sometimes," the Overlord said. "It's best to ignore him, really. Otherwise he'll start talking to you about...ugh...lacy...underthings."

"For the master!" Quaver announced proudly, laid a tray heaped with meat and mushrooms on the table. "And the mistress. Uh, oh, and for you, Gnarl."

"Ah, thank you, Quaver." Gnarl rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "Dig in!"

Kelda picked up a mushroom, sniffed it dubiously.

"Are these safe to eat?" she asked.

Gnarl was showing them into his mouth with gusto. She looked at him warily, carefully set the mushroom aside.

"Wine, mistress?" A minion offered her a cup.

"Ah, thank you." She took it gratefully.

The witch boy glanced at her.

"No, don't!"

She took a sip and coughed, clutching her throat.

"W-what is _this_?" she asked. "It tastes like moonshine."

"They call it Darksap. The minions brew it out of waste from the hives and whatever else they can find."

"Huh." She took another sip, considering. "I kind of like it."

Gnarl gave her a look of deep respect.

"I like this one, Master," he said. "She's a rough and tumble kind of girl. Heheheh."

He resumed his staring, giggling to himself. Kelda waved a hand in front of his eyes.

"Are you sure he's okay?"

"He'll be fine. Like I said, this happens all the time. We found a statue of some naked goddess or other in one of the tunnels last month, and he was like this for days. How's your seal?"

"Your little creature might be strange-looking, but he can certainly cook! I haven't eaten this well in years." She took another sip of Darksap, smiled up at him. "I could get used to this."

"Careful, that stuff is awfully strong."

"I've been drinking Nordbergian ale since I was five, Dark One. How bad can it be?" She picked up a piece of seal meat, dropped it down her cleavage and giggled, fumbling after it. "Oops! Clumsy!"

"I think you're about done," he said dubiously.

"Mmfine!" She fished the seal meat out, tearing at it savagely. "Mmfine! Gnarl, tell him I'm fine!"

"She _is_ certainly fine, Master."

"This is _tasty_," she said, peering into her cup. "I didn't like it at first, but now it tastes a lot better." She swayed in her seat, leaned over to poke the Overlord in the side. "Hey. Hey witch boy. Did I tell you? You're- you're pretty cute."

"I think she likes you, Master."

"I think she's drunk."

"I may be drunk, but I know what I like. You- you big dummy." Kelda slid out of her chair, stared at the floor in surprise. "Hello, floor. What are you doing here?"

"Oh, dear," Gnarl said. "I forgot that humans can't handle our liquor."

"Mm tired," Kelda said, cheek pressed against the stone. "Can I go to bed now?"

"Ooh, yes, Master, take her to bed!"

The Overlord gave his adviser an exasperated look, bent to help Kelda up. She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled up at him.

"Yes, witch boy, take me to bed. I want to...I want to..." her head lolled and sagged against his chest, and she began to snore.

"Come on."

He lifted her bodily in his arms and carried her to their private quarters. She stirred drowsily, snuggled against him. He could smell the soft human scent of her, felt the strength of her hunter's arms as they tightened around his neck. He laid her down on the furs and stared down at her, felt a strangely mortal tenderness he'd never known before. It worried him. Her eyelids fluttered as he turned to go, and she stirred, reached out to him.

"Witch boy?" she asked him. "Is this your bed?"

"You can sleep here," he told her.

"Don't go," she said softly. "You- you don't have to go, if you don't want to."

He took off his heavy armor in silence, lay down beside her. Her breathing slowed, and she pulled the furs tighter around her, grumbling in her sleep. He watched the lava light play over the pale curve of her cheek, remembering the girl who had loved him. It had been so many years- he'd grown into the monster he was always meant to be, and she- she'd become something wild and strange, a hard woman with soft curves and wicked eyes. He didn't know her anymore, he thought, any more than she knew him.

He had other things he should concern himself with. He shook his head, pushing the thoughts away. Those sorts of things were too human. Being here, next to her, made him feel too human, too vulnerable- and yet, he somehow couldn't bear to leave.

Troubled, he closed his eyes, and drifted into a restless sleep filled with steel and blood.

-x-

Kelda woke with a start, found herself wreathed in soft furs. She sat up, felt a warm depression behind her, squinting in the gloom.

"Witch boy?" she called. "Witch boy, are you there?"

She pushed her way through the curtains, blinking. The quarters had been transformed overnight. Candles glowed in every cranny, and minions scampered over the floor, pushing brooms.

"Mistress!" A minion scampered to her side, wearing a ridiculous powdered wig, holding an elaborate fan that had clearly seen better days. "Good morning!"

"Ugh." She squinted at it, her temples throbbing. "What the hell is that on your head?"

"You like, mistress? Found it in storage! We clean up, find lots of things from the old tower for the new mistress! Pretty things!" It waved the fan at her, sending a billow of dust into her face. "Pretty like you!"

"That's very sweet. Stop waving that around, will you?" She wrinkled her nose. "Is there anywhere I can take a bath around here?"

"Bath? Yes, mistress!" It gave her a sly look. "Does Mistress want help with bath?"

"What? No! Just...just show me where it is." She hesitated. "Where's the witch boy?"

"The Master? The Master is in throne room. Do you want Master to join you?" It giggled, leering up at her. "Don't worry, we no peek."

"No!" she said hurriedly. "I'll join him after I'm a little bit more presentable. I think I still have straw in my hair."

She sank into the bath with a grateful sigh, headache loosening its iron claws on her temples. The bath was a natural hot spring, heated by the fires of the earth below. She let herself slide under the water, drifted in its embrace, letting her body relax in the heat. Everything had changed in an instant, she thought, and now, for the first time in a long, long time, she was...she was _happy._

She surfaced with a sigh, found herself staring into yellow eyes.

"Yeek!" She clutched her arms tight around her breasts. "Quaver! What the hell are you doing here?"

"Mistress!" he ducked his head, bells jangling, crouched like a spider on the rocks. "The old Mistress liked me to wash her hair. Shall I wash your hair for you, my Lady?"

"What? No! Get out!"

"But the old Mistress-"

_"OUT!"_

She hurled a bar of soap with unerring accuracy. Quaver shrieked, racing out of the wash room.

"Ugh." She rinsed her hair and climbed out of the bath, stopped short, drying herself.

"What did he mean, _old_ mistress?" she wondered aloud. "Hmph!"

She swept down the stairs and into the throne room in a storm of skirts, striding to where the Overlord sat on his rough hewn throne, in muttered conference with Gnarl.

"Witch boy!" she snapped. "Quaver said something about another mistress. What was he talking about?"

The Overlord looked up, startled.

"Kelda! How's your head?"

"Don't give me that!" she snapped. "I'm not the first woman you've brought here, am I?"

"What?" he gave her an incredulous look. "You've seen this place, right? You're the first woman who's ever seen it."

"But Quaver said something about- about the 'old mistress'," she said, confused.

"Ah." Gnarl nodded. "He means the Master's mother. He followed her around like a puppy. It was sad, really. He never got over it after she left. I'm sorry, was he bothering you? I can...reprimand him."

"Oh." Kelda blinked, embarrassed. "Oh. No. Sorry, I just thought- er, never mind."

It was stupid, she thought. She'd wanted so much to be the first human he'd shown this place to, and it had shaken her to think he'd shown it to someone else before her. It was silly. She didn't know what was wrong with her. She shook herself, peered over Gnarl's shoulder to distract herself, looking at the papers he was holding.

"What's this about?" she asked.

"Ah, Mistress, while you were asleep, we had news from Nordberg. It seems that not everyone is as pleased with the Master's rule as we are. There are a group of rebels hiding out in a nearby cave. They've stolen half the town's supplies of food and fireworks, and as you know, those rightfully belong to us."

"Hmm." She took the map from his claws and studied it. "Wait a minute. I know this place. This is a hunter's cave, where Jek and his men hide out when they've been poaching." She looked up at the Overlord. "You remember him, don't you?"

"Oh, yes," the Overlord said, with a chilly smile. "I remember."

"It's him and his old gang, mostly. About twenty, twenty-five hunters." She traced her fingers down the parchment. "They've been hiding out from the Empire there for years. They've got this path here rigged so that the slightest sound will trigger an avalanche- you don't want to go that way."

"And this way?" the witch boy asked her, showing her another sketch.

"Hmm." She studied it. "If I know Jek- and I think I do- he'll have this path lined with booby traps and pitfalls. It's probably your best bet, unless your little creatures can scale that sheer cliff face on the other side of the mountain."

"No. We'll have to take this path. Maybe I can send a minion ahead to trigger the traps-"

"Or maybe I could lead you through."

"No, mistress!" Gnarl pulled the map out of her hands. "It's too dangerous!"

"I can take care of myself," she snapped, pulling it back.

"Sire, please! Don't let her come."

"Do you really think I can stop her?" the Overlord asked, amused.

"I'm the only one who knows the way into the cave where they're hiding," Kelda insisted. "It's full of traps and snares. I know how Jek thinks. I know how to disarm them. Please, let me come with you. Let me fight!"

"Master!" Gnarl implored.

"Kelda will lead us in," the Overlord declared. "She knows the route, and she knows our enemies."

Kelda grinned, feral, leaned over the map.

'Excellent. This is how we'll attack, then..."

She moved out with the minion horde, wielding a spear that arced and sparked with magic, dressed for the cold in her boots and parka. The Overlord stalked beside her, tall and imposing in his dark armor. They moved over the snow like a black cloud, the minions tearing at the snow, hurling snowballs at each other, gleeful to be out in the world.

"Up there," Kelda said, gestured up at an imposing crag. "Be careful. Follow me."

She led them cautiously up the mountain pass, paused as the sun glinted off a thin wire. She leaned forward, hardly breathing, cut it swiftly with a dagger drawn from her boot. She pointed up to a pile of rocks on the ridge.

"If we'd run into that wire, those would have all come crashing down us." She crept forward, cautious. "Be careful. There might be more traps."

They followed her, the minions uncharacteristically quiet, muttering back and forth to each other. She paused near the summit, stabbing the butt of her spear into the snow. An iron trap snicked closed, splintering the wood. She pulled it off and threw it aside.

"Look, look, Master, look!" a minion cried.

A man raced across the ridge ahead of them, disappeared into the cave. The Overlord gestured, and the minions swept forward.

"No!" Kelda cried. "Don't-"

The ground gave way beneath the minions at the front of the line. They toppled, shrieking, into a pit of spikes.

"Damn it!"

They picked their way carefully around the pit. Kelda looked down at the twisted bodies and swallowed. The Overlord walked past them without a second glance.

"Follow me," she whispered. "They know we're here."

One of the minions shrieked and ran forward, chasing a man who disappeared into the mouth of the cave. The others followed him, giggling, waving their makeshift weapons.

"No!" Kelda shouted. "Stop them!"

There was a twang of crossbows, and minions fell, startled, studded with black-feathered bolts. The Overlord roared and surged forward, bolts ringing off his armor.

"Witch boy, no!"

She raced after him, her heart in her throat, vaulted past him and cut the first of the archers down.

"Look out!"

She thrust before she could think about it, jabbed the spear deep into a man's torso. He let out a horrible gurgle, clutching the shaft, toppled against the wall.

'Oh, oh gods," she whispered.

It was one thing to kill a seal, another entirely to kill a man, she though. His eyes had met hers as he'd died, he'd-

"Kelda!"

The witch boy whirled, axe flashing, cut down an archer who had crept up next to her.

"Behind you!"

She thrust her spear forward without thinking, scoured the side of one of the hunters. The Overlord spun, hands spitting fire. The hunter howled, clutching his head, pitched over onto the ice, blood leaking from his nose.

"Are you alright?"

She caught her breath, looking up at her witch boy. He'd been wounded, black blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

"I...yes. Thank you, I-"

She could feel the heat of his body. His face was so close to hers. She reached out, almost unconsciously, pulled the wrappings from his face and pressed her lips against his. She tasted copper and lightning, felt him respond. He pushed her up against the icy cave wall, hands fumbling beneath her parka. She tugged at his belt, biting his lower lip, urgent.

"Sire!"

Gnarl's voice broke through the heat of the moment. Kelda swore.

"Sire, the other hunters are coming!"

"Damn." She pushed him away. "We'll finish this later, witch boy."

She gripped her spear as the remaining minions boiled past them, hooting and shrieking, brandishing pillaged spears and crossbows. She heard a scream in the tunnels, raced after the minions, spear at the ready.

A score of men waited for them, armed with long spears and heavy swords. Jek was among them, iron helmet pulled low over his eyes.

"Kill the demons!" he shouted. "Kill them all! Marius has promise a thousand Imperials to whoever kills the black demon lord!"

The men shuffled, uncertain, as the minions advanced, giggling. Jek raised his spear and raced forward.

"For Nordberg!" he shouted.

"For Nordberg!" the hunters echoed him.

"For _Nordberg_?" Kelda asked incredulously, stepping out in front of him. "Are you serious? For a sad little backwater that's not even brave enough to fight the Empire?"

Jek stopped short, startled.

"_Kelda_? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question!" she snapped. "A 'thousand Imperials'? What, are you doing the Empire's dirty work for them, now?"

"You don't understand." Jek pointed a spear at the Overlord, trembling. "He- he is a _demon_, Kelda. We should have killed him years ago!"

"He's my _friend_," she said savagely.

"Kelda, surely you can't be so naive." He looked from one to the other, frown deepening. "Wait, you're- you're with him? Kelda, you should- you should be with me! We're both excellent hunters, we're the pride of Nordberg. And he, he's just some foundling brat, he's not even worth your-"

"Oh, shut up!"

She hit him in the face with the butt of her spear, hard enough to knock him back. He raised a hand to his bleeding nose, incredulous.

"You- you _bitch_!" he snarled. "Kill her! Kill them all!"

His men leapt forward, met the minions with a crash of steel. He leapt to his feet and lunged for her, knocking her spear aside and hurling her to the snow. His spear point missed her throat by inches. He planted a foot on her chest, crushing the air from her lungs, glaring down at her.

"I've put up with your shit for too long, Kelda," he snarled. "I've tried to be your friend, and I've tried to help you, but you just won't listen to me. It's time to teach you a lesso-"

A black-bladed axe scythed through the air, whistled through Jek's neck. He looked surprised for a second, and then his head thudded to the snow. His body toppled, and Kelda gasped for air.

"Are you alright?"

The witch boy reached down, helped her to her feet. She leaned against him, wrapping her arms around his waist, fighting for breath.

"I thought-" she gasped. "I thought he was going to kill me."

"Not while I'm here."

She pressed her face against his armor-plated chest, shivering. She felt a hand hesitantly stroke her hair, lifted her face to his, met his lips with her own, twining her arms around his neck. He slid a warm hand underneath her parka, cupping her breast. His thumb brushed her tightening nipple, and she gasped, pushing herself against him, tongue seeking his, hungry, needing him.

"Sire, I believe I've discovered a way into Everlight!" Gnarl declared proudly.

Kelda groaned.

"Oh. Oops. Carry on," Gnarl said.

"What was that about Everlight?" the Overlord asked.

"Ah, it can wait, sire."

"No, it can't. Not if we're going to destroy the Empire."

"I'm afraid you're right, Sire."

"We're coming back." He bent to kiss her, nipped at her ear. "Later," he whispered.

She shivered and took his hand, walking back to the portal outside of town. They stepped onto the portal together. She glanced up, saw a Nordbergian on the walls staring at them. People would talk, no doubt about it. Let them talk, she thought, fierce. She didn't care what they thought. She tightened her grip and felt his fingers flex in response. She closed her eyes and let the portal carry them home.


	5. Chapter 5

Kelda saw little of her witch boy in the next few days. He was at sea, searching for a way into the Elven sanctuary of Everlight. She spent her time putting the minions to work on cleaning the fortress, organizing and scrubbing, losing herself in the task of making the netherworld livable. From time to time she'd stop, remembering the heat of his lips on hers, would shiver and smile and press on with her work, humming to herself.

"Mistress Kelda!"

Gnarl startled her while she was in the middle of scrubbing the grime from the fountain. She almost toppled into the open mouth of a statue, righted herself and glared at him, annoyed.

"Mistress Kelda, the Master has broken through the gates of Everlight! Come and see!" Gnarl blinked at her. "Mistress, why are you working? The minions can do that for you!"

"I got bored," she replied, rolling her sleeves down. "It keeps me busy."

He shrugged a humpbacked shoulder.

"Oh, fine, suit yourself. Come, the Master is on his way to the Last Sanctuary!"

"Is he alright?" Kelda asked, her heart racing.

"Oh, yes, Mistress, more than alright. He's becoming the conqueror that he was born to be!"

Gnarl led her into the throne room. A vast display hung above the throne room portal, crackling with magic. She saw the prow of a tall ship, waves breaking on the open ocean.

"Are we seeing what he's seeing?" she asked.

"His helmet lets us follow along, yes," Gnarl replied. "Ah, good, he's spotted Everlight."

A spyglass centered on an island, lined with strange jungle trees. Toga-clad figures lolled on the beaches, tended by hollow-eyed elves.

"Well, well, well, this is interesting," Gnarl chuckled. "Everlight is _supposed_ to be a sort of heaven on earth- it's where the elves go when they've gotten tired of the world. It looked like the Empire's found their way into their little paradise. How _amusing_."

The spyglass focused on a tall, curvaceous woman. She was holding a wine glass and twirling a strand of dark hair around a slim finger, surrounded by men. She looked bored. Kelda felt her cheeks growing hot.

"Oooh, yes," Gnarl said. "Everlight offers many...earthly delights!"

"Gnarl, don't distract him," she snapped.

"_What?"_ She heard, distorted by distance through the helmet, and then, "Oh _gods_, reverse, damn it, reverse you bastards-"

There was a horrible sound of crunching wood. She caught a glimpse of a vast, insectoid leg, black mandibles the size of a chariot, and then the screen in front of them fizzled out.

"What happened?" She leapt to her feet, raced to the center of the cavern, looking up. "Gnarl, what happened?"

"I- I'm not sure, mistress!" Gnarl reached up and pulled down the crystal above his head, caressing it and murmuring to it in a strange tongue. "I- I can't make contact with him. I can't find him anywhere!"

"Gods _damn_ it Gnarl, if he's hurt or worse I swear I'll bloody throw you into the lava!"

"Mistress, please, calm down! I'm sure he's alright!"

Deep in the depths of the fortress, the wolves began to howl, loud enough to be heard even in the throne room. Kelda picked the old adviser up by his cloak and shook him, hard enough to rattle the teeth in his skull.

"He had _better_ be, or I'll skin you and wear you for a coat!"

They heard a hoarse cough, and the mirage shimmered into place above them again. The Overlord rose, shaking sand out of his armor and swearing eloquently.

"There," Gnarl said, prying her hands off his cloak. "You see? He's fine." He cleared his throat. "Apologies, Master. We lost your signal for awhile there. Glad to see you're not dead."

The wolves were still snarling. She could hear their cries from where she stood.

"Mistress, go calm them down, please," Gnarl implored her. "They like you. Maybe they'll listen to you."

"Keep an eye on him," Kelda snapped. "Don't you _dare_ let anything happen to him."

"I'll do my best," he promised her.

"You'd better." She bent down and locked eyes with him, feral. "You'd make a lousy trophy, but if he doesn't come home, I'll mount your head on a spike. Are we clear?"

"Perfectly, mistress," he squeaked.

"Good." She turned on her heel and stormed out of the room.

"Whew." Gnarl wiped his forehead, turned back to the display. "You sure know how to pick 'em, Sire."

He arranged his robes around him and settled his weary, old bones back to watch the show.

-x-

Kelda woke from a cozy pile of wolves, hearing the sound of grating stone and the crackle of magic. She perked up and raced from the den, followed by a pair of barking wolves. They leapt onto the platform, rose towards the throne room.

"Come on, hurry up!" Kelda cried.

She leapt from the platform when it was still feet away from the terrace, landed in a crouch. The wolves bounded after her, barking and whining excitedly, raced past her to the armor-clad figure in the center of the portal.

"Witch boy!" she cried, then gagged, covering her mouth. "Oh, gods. What is that _smell_?"

"I found the green minions!" He said cheerfully. "They're fond of...interesting stenches. Oh. here, I brought you something."

He tossed an enormous arachnoid head in front of her with a sickening squelch.

"Ooh, this will look perfect hanging from the wall!" she said delightedly. "Was this the thing that took down your ship?"

"A spider Queen, yes."

"She's _gorgeous_, "Kelda sighed, admiring the trophy. "I can't wait to hang her up! She'd look nice above the fountain upstairs, don't you think? Or maybe in the study. Hmm."

"So, you like it?"

"I _love_ it." She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed the bridge of his nose. "We were thinking of going hunting today. Come with us."

"We?"

"The wolves and me."

"I should really get back to Everlight-"

"Oh, please!" she stretched up, twined her arms around his neck, smiling up at him, cheeks flushing. "I've missed you while you were away. Surely the minions can manage without you for just a few hours?"

"You've _met_ them, haven't you?"

"Oh, come on, they'll be fine!"

"Oh...alright, but only for a few hours." He clenched his fist. "I'm so close to conquering Everlight, I can _taste_ it."

"_I_ can smell it," she said, scrunching up her nose. "Go change out of that armor into something a little...stealthier. And for gods' sake, bathe. You smell like a week-dead seal. I'll meet you in the den."

He joined her and the wolves a few minutes later, dark hair still faintly damp, wearing a heavy black cloak. Kelda checked her bowstring, slinging her bow onto her back, tested the point of her spear with her thumb.

"Right," she said, and grinned up at him. "Ready? Try to keep up!"

She raced from the den, followed by the wolf pack. He followed her more slowly, shouldering his way through the tight confines of the tunnel. She grinned at him, sunlight glinting off her coppery hair.

"Come on!" she cried.

The wolves raced like shadows over the snow. She followed them, fleet-footed, leaping from rock to rock. He ran after her, plowing through the drifts.

"Slow poke!" she called back cheerfully. "Keep up!"

He quickened his pace, caught up with her and pushed her down into the snow. He raced after the wolves, laughing, as she swore, dusting off her parka.

"Oh, you, you're _dead_!" she shouted.

She dropped her bow and spear, shrugged off her pack, and hurled herself after him. She flung her arms around his waist and brought her full weight to bear, trying to drag him down with her into the drifts.

"Huh."

She tugged at his waist, trying to knock him off balance. He stared down at her, amused. She hurled her shoulder into his hip, straining with all her strength.

"Oh, come on," she cried. "That's just not fair."

"I don't play fair," he replied, pushed her over again.

She lay on her back in the snow, winded.

"I submit," she gasped. "You win."

He reached down to help her up. She tossed a handful of snow into his face.

"Ha! Gotcha!" Her eyes widened as he scooped up snow and slowly, deliberately, shaped it. She started scrambling to her feet. "No, no, don't you dare-"

He dropped the snowball gently over her head. It bounced off her nose. She grinned up at him, and he helped her up. They sat in the snow together, watching the wolves tussle over a marmot. She bumped his shoulder with her own shyly.

"So...this may sound a little strange, but...even though it's been thirteen years, I feel like almost no time has passed at all, when I'm with you. It's...it's just like it was, back when we were children."

"But we're not children anymore," he pointed out.

"No." She put her hand over his. "No, we're not."

He bent and kissed her. She pushed his hood back, tangling her fingers in his hair. He pulled her into his lap, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, holding his face in her gloved hands, staring breathlessly down at him.

"My witch boy," she whispered.

The wolves raced past, spraying them with snow, barking excitedly, tails waving like flags. Kelda looked up after them and grinned.

"Oh! They've caught the scent of something. Caribou, I think!"

"How do you kno-"

She cut him off with another kiss, slow and lingering, rose from his lap to retrieve her hunting gear.

"Come on, witch boy!" she called. "We'll have caribou for dinner tonight!"

She followed the questing wolves, hiding a smile. He made an exasperated noise deep in his throat, rose and stalked after her.

The wolves stopped in front of a copse of evergreens, lowered themselves to the snow, growling. From the shadows, she heard the hoarse cough of a caribou. She pushed under the dark boughs, gripping her spear tight, picking her way carefully over fallen branches. She crouched behind a rotten log and peered cautiously over, heart hammering.

A bull caribou lay on its side in the clearing, flanks heaving. Blood leaked from deep red gashes on its neck. She hesitated, frowning. The wind shifted, and the wolves began to snarl. She smelled a heavy, animal musk, heard a gurgling growl from the trees.

"Shit," she whispered. She backed up hastily. "Witch boy, we have to go!"

There was a blur of white fur and yellow claws as the saber cat leapt from the trees, knocking her back with casual ease. She raised her spear to block it. Its jaws snapped closed around the shaft, showering her with splinters. She struggled to reach her dagger, knowing it was futile, that she was about to die-

A guttural roar shattered the air, and the witch boy slammed into the saber cat from the side, wrapping his arms around its neck. It snarled, twisting and raking at him with long claws, jaws scything. Black blood splattered the snow. Kelda staggered to her feet and picked up her shattered spear, staggered towards the struggle, head ringing.

"Leave him _alone_!" she snapped, staggering up, plunged the spear point into its shoulder.

It snarled and broke free, whirling to face her. The witch boy was kneeling in the snow, hand pressed to his bleeding side. She swallowed hard, gripping the broken butt of the spear like a club.

"Come on, you bastard!" she shouted.

The cat roared and charged her. Grey bodies broke from the woods, tearing at the cat's sides, harrying it. It turned, roaring, to face the new threat. The wolves circled, darting and snapping.

"Witch boy, are you alright?" she shouted.

He picked himself up, shook his head hard, spat blood into the snow.

"I've had worse," he said. He pulled his black axe from his back. "Time to end this."

The cat snarled, bounding across the snow towards him, maddened, white fur stained red. Kelda pulled her bow from her back and swore- the string had snapped in two. She struggled to restring it, boots slippery with blood and snow. The Overlord hurled his heavy black cloak into the cat's path, tangling it as it pounced. It fell, roaring furiously, ripping at the cloak as his dark axe whistled down. The cat rolled out of the way, tearing its way free, gained its feet and circled him, snarling.

The bow string slid into place. Kelda knocked an arrow and aimed swiftly, fired. The cat yowled, whirled to face her. She put an arrow through its throat. It staggered, gurgling, and pitched over into the snow, back legs flailing pitifully. The witch boy's axe flashed down, and its body stilled.

"Holy hells." Kelda fell to her knees, panting. "I've never seen a saber cat this close to Nordberg before." She felt around in her backpack. "Here, I have some bandages in here somewhere."

"I'm alright." He retrieved his shredded cloak, slinging it around broad shoulders. "I'm pretty durable. It comes with the job. What about you?"

"I'm fine, thanks to you. And the wolves." He held out his hand, and she stood, wincing, cracking her back. "Where _are_ the wolves?"

She heard a snarl and a sharp cry, cut off abruptly, as the wolves found the wounded caribou in the woods. They dragged the carcass out, tails wagging, looking up expectantly.

"Good boys!" Kelda cried. "You keep it, you earned it."

They tore into the caribou eagerly, muzzles steaming red, howling to summon the rest of the pack. The witch boy picked up the saber cat, flinging it across his shoulders with a grunt of effort.

"That pelt will make a lovely rug," Kelda said happily. "Aww, it's our first kill together!"

"Funny, the way I see it, I was the one who struck the killing blow."

"Yeah, but I softened it up for you first! Come on, admit it, you couldn't have done it without me."

"I _wouldn't_ have done it without you. You were the one who insisted we go hunting."

"Oh, but you had fun, didn't you, witch boy?"

"Aside from the assortment of brand-new holes in my side, yes."

"Don't worry! Women like scars."

"All women?"

"_I_ like scars," she said sharply. "What does it matter what other women like?"

"I don't know, I was just thinking-"

"Oh, I _know_ what you were thinking," she snapped, stalked off in front of him.

"Wait, Kelda. Are you angry?"

"Yes, you idiot, of course I'm angry!"

"Why?"

She stared at him, exasperated, then deflated.

"I- I don't know," she admitted. "I- I'm just touchy, I guess. Sorry."

"Gnarl says that...um...that women have a time of the month when they-"

"Oh, for gods' sake!" Kelda snapped. "Don't listen to Gnarl, he doesn't know what he's talking about."

"Kelda?" he asked cautiously.

"Yes?"

"Are you still angry?"

"Ugh." She rolled her eyes at him. "I couldn't stay mad at you, even if I wanted to. Come on, let's go home."

They took a portal, black stone seizing her around the ribs with inescapable force. She staggered, leaning against him.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to that."

"Master!" Gnarl hobbled across the throne room, irate. "Master, where in the _hells_ did you get off to? I turn around and you've gone, and nobody knows where you've got to-"

The Overlord threw the saber cat onto the floor in silence. Gnarl gaped at it, looked up.

"Master, you're wounded."

"I'm fine."

"You most certainly are _not_ fine. And where's your armor? By all that's dark and putrid, boy, you're the _Overlord_, not some besotted village lout! Start _acting_ like it!"

"Is that what you want?" The Overlord said, very, very softly, his voice low and dangerous.

Gnarl blinked, backpedaling.

"Er...of course, I'm glad you're alright, Master, what I mean to say is-"

"Witch boy," Kelda touched his arm. "Come on. Please. Let me look at those scratches."

He looked at her for a long moment, and then at last he nodded and limped up the stairs in a swirl of black cloak.

Gnarl clutched at the bones around his neck, frowning. He heard the jingle of bells behind him, turned to see Quaver digging in a long ear with a yellow claw.

"That one's more trouble than even his father was," Quaver observed, licking his finger with relish. "You best watch out, Gnarl. We won't be able to control him anymore before too long."

"What are you talking about?" Gnarl snapped. "What do you mean, 'control'? He is the Overlord, and we are his minions. That's the way it's always been!"

"Are you so sure?"

"He _needs_ us, just like we need him."

"Do we, really? Do we really need an Overlord?"

Gnarl stared at him, yellow eyes hard and unforgiving.

"I'm going to forget you said that, Quaver," he said slowly. "If there's anything at all rattling around in that addled skull of yours, you'll forget about it, too."

Quaver shrugged a misshapen shoulder and gave him a lopsided grin.

"Forget what?" he said innocently. "I don't even remember what we were talking about."

"Just...get somebody to deal with that, will you?" Gnarl gestured to the cat irritably. "I don't like the way it keeps staring at me."

-x-

"Sit, witch boy."

Kelda pushed him into a stone chair and stripped the cloak from his shoulders.

"Shirt, too," she commanded.

He pulled the black tunic over his head, looked around the quarters.

"You did all this?" he asked.

She looked around, flushing.

"Well, with the help of your little minions, yes. They're not half bad workers if you can keep them from chasing each other up the walls. This place is starting to look a little less 'cave troll', and a little more 'dark overlord'." She probed at his side gingerly and winced. "Does it hurt?"

"Does what hurt?" He looked down at her fingers. "Oh. That. Not really. I don't think I feel pain the same way humans do."

"You don't feel this?" she asked incredulously, poking the slash.

He grimaced and leaned away.

"Oh, no, I feel it. But it's just unimportant. A little annoying, maybe, like someone humming in the background when you're trying to remember something."

"Huh." She dabbed gently at the scratches. "Must be nice." She frowned as a thought occurred to her. "You're really not human, then. At least, not entirely."

"Kelda, look at me. Have you ever seen another human who's seven feet tall with eyes like mine?"

"Well, no...but somehow, I don't know, I just didn't fully realize it until just now. What do you reckon you are, then?"

"What they say I am, maybe. A demon." He stared down at her, unreadable. "Does that frighten you?"

"I've said it before, and I've said it again, Witch Boy. You don't scare me." She smiled up at him, reached up and took his chin in her hands. "I don't care _what_ you are. All I know is that I- I care about you."

"I-"

She trailed a finger down his chest, tracing the strange scars. His skin felt like well-worn leather, hot as a heart beneath her palm.

"Kelda-"

"I don't care what you are," she said again, suddenly fierce. "You'll always be my witch boy."

"I- I need to get back to Everlight."

"Please. Stay."

She traced her hand lower, felt the taut strength of his stomach. He took her hand in his and kissed her wrist.

"I can't." He rose, pulling on his bleak armor. "I've been away too long already. Gnarl's right, I have a job to do."

"What have I told you about listening to him?" Kelda said lightly, trying to hide her disappointment.

"I won't be long." He pulled her to her feet and kissed her, hard enough to bruise her lips. "I'll crush Everlight, and we'll rule it together. You'd like it there."

"Happy hunting, Witch Boy."


	6. Chapter 6 (NSFW)

"Mistress Kelda!"

Kelda waved a hand, head-first inside a troll carcass.

"Over here!"

Gnarl hobbled to her as she pulled her way free with a squelch, eyeing the foot-long knife she held with wary respect.

"The Master is on his way, Mistress. I thought you'd like to know."

"Oh!" She brightened, jammed the knife into the troll's meaty thigh. "He's conquered Everlight, then?"

"Mistress, he has _crushed _it," Gnarl said proudly. "I've taught him well."

"Excellent!" Kelda wiped blood from her hands with a towel, gave her face a cursory scrub. "How do I look?"

"Like you've just been gutting and skinning a troll, Mistress."

"Hmm." She frowned, running a hand through her hair, peering at her reflection in the fountain. "Eh, I've looked worse." She rinsed her hands in the fountain, raked her unruly hair back into place. "Come on, then."

"Coming Mistress, coming! I'm not as young as I used to be, you know."

She paused in the throne room, smoothing her skirts.

"There's so much still to do!" she exclaimed. "I want to go through the armory and inventory what we have- oh, and tan that troll hide- oh, and I can't wait to visit Everlight! I wonder what the hunting's like there?"

There was a thunderclap, a rush off wind that flattened her skirts against her legs. She smoothed her hair, grinning- and then her smile fell.

There was someone else with the witch boy.

"What." She said.

It was a woman- the woman from the beach, in fact. She was tall, made even taller and more imposing by a mass of dark, curly hair that looked like it had taken hours to arrange. She wore a white linen toga, the glint of gold caressing the swell of her breasts, and a purple silk scarf that likely cost more than Nordberg was wrapped around her shapely hips. Kelda glanced down at her own rough-spun skirts, her cheeks flaming.

"Hmm." The woman was looking around critically, red lips in a perfectly sculpted pout. "Little on the dark side, no natural light...but I think I can work with this."

"What?" Kelda said again.

"Oooh!" the woman said, delighted, sashaying towards her. "I can see you've already arranged a peasant slave as my lady in waiting. She's a bit scruffy."

Kelda stared at her, furious. The woman cocked her head to the side, studying her critically. Kelda strode towards her and stared her in the eyes. The other woman faltered, uncertain.

"The only think I'm waiting for, Empire, is for you to put a toe out of line so that I can hang your carcass from the wall...with all the other pretty, vacant things."

She gave the witch boy a look that could have boiled lead, turned on her heel, and stalked out of the throne room.

"How rude!" Juno exclaimed. "Are you going to let her talk to me like that?"

"Ah, Mistress Juno." Gnarl waggled his ears. "Hellllllooooo."

"What is that?" Juno asked, stepping back and grabbing the Overlord's arm.

"Ah, that's Gnarl."

"What's a Gnarl?"

"He's my adviser."

"Huh. He's not very easy on the eyes, is he?" She studied him. "I think we might want to replace him with someone, I don't know, tall, shapely, and maybe blonde."

"I'll leave you in his capable hands," the Overlord said distantly. "I have work to do."

"Oooh, yes, Master, you can leave her in _my_ hands, eheheheh."

"Ohh, but we've only just arrived." She pouted up at him. "You must let me find some way to...thank...you."

He stared down at her, inscrutable beneath the helmet.

"But you already thanked me."

He sounded confused. She stared back, equally nonplussed.

"I- what?"

"Mistress Juno, if you will follow me, I will take you to the private quarters." Gnarl beckoned her up a set of stairs behind the throne. "You've already met Mistress Kelda. I'm sure the two of you will get along like a house on fire." He snickered.

"Wait, _Mistress_ Kelda? You mean that pissy little skinny redhead?"

"Ah...Mistress Juno, I'd like to keep you around for awhile, so take my advice. Don't say that to her face."

The sound of tearing skin and muffled cursing greeted them as they entered the quarters. Kelda popped her head over the troll's flank and glared at them both.

"What the in the hells?" Juno gagged, covering her mouth with a delicate hand. "Peasant girl, clean that up, straight away!"

Kelda rose, wiping the knife on her thigh.

"I don't know who you are or what you want," she spit. "But I was the first 'mistress' around here, and what I say goes, is that clear?" She jabbed the knife at both of them, eyes icy. "And if you ever tell me what to do again, Empire, I'll make you into a pair of gloves."

"Oh, er, I..."

"I'll just leave you two alone, then," Gnarl purred. "Have fun."

"I- I think we got off on the wrong foot," Juno said. "I'm Juno."

"I don't care."

"You're Kelda, right?" Juno licked her lips nervously. She hated to lower herself to the level of _peasants_, but she'd be damned if she let that knife anywhere near her dress- it had cost well over a thousand Imperials. So what if she hadn't been the one to pay for it? It was valuable, and more importantly, it was _stylish_. "So, how long have you been...um...wearing your hair like that?"

"My what?" The other woman wiped a smear of blood from her cheek.

"Er, your hair. It's a most...unusual style."

"Style?"

"It looks, if you'll let me be frank for a second, like you cut it with a dagger, to be honest."

"I did."

"You know, if you let me, I think I could do some nice things with it..."

"You can do something else," Kelda grunted. "Hold this."

She thrust a stained bag into her manicured hands. Juno held it gingerly, eyeing it with distaste.

"What- what's this for?"

Kelda thrust an armful of offal into the bag, and Juno squealed and almost dropped it.

"Hold that steady," Kelda snapped. "You can bring that down to the minion hives when you're done. They'll eat just about anything."

"Minion hives?"

"Don't you know anything? The minions are the little creatures that serve the wi- I mean, the Master. They come out of hives."

"I don't really do heavy lifting," Juno said, gingerly setting the bag aside.

"Well, what do you do, then?" Kelda asked, exasperated.

"Oh, make witty conversation." Juno twined a dark curl around her finger. "Look ornamental. Bring a little class wherever I go."

"Witty conversation," Kelda said drily. "Really."

"I've always been praised for my wit and my charm."

"Are those euphemisms?" Kelda asked sweetly.

"Um, what?" Juno said hesitantly.

"Nevermind." Kelda gestured to a minion, directing him to the troll. "Take that down to Quaver, will you?" She slung the hide over her shoulders and looked darkly at the other woman. "Stay out of my way, Empire, and we'll get along just fine. Get in my way, and I'll toss you out the window."

-x-

Juno lay on the bed in her new quarters, staring angrily up at her perfect nails.

"Who does that little bitch think she is?" she muttered. "How _dare_ she talk to me like that? Doesn't she know who I am?"

"And who might you be, Mistress?"

She shrieked and tumbled out of the bed.

"Who's there?"

She heard the jingle of bells, and a lizardlike head in jester's motley poked around the corner.

"Sorry, Mistress. I didn't mean to scare you. Well, alright, maybe I did." It giggled, bells jingling.

"Ugh." She glared at it, picking herself up gingerly. "What _are_ you?"

"I am Quaver, Mistress." He drew himself up to his full height. "Jester and bard to the Overlord."

"And what are you doing, lurking around in my room?"

"I had heard tale that the new Mistress was as radiant as the dawn, as beautiful as a poet's dying gasp! I had to see for myself. I hope you can forgive me?"

"Huh. Well, you heard right."

"If anything, Mistress, the rumors didn't do you justice. You are even more beautiful than I had heard."

"Hmph. You're the first...er...person in this awful place to appreciate me, anyways." She sniffed, feeling sorry for herself.

"Oh, Mistress, don't cry!" He produced a dirty handkerchief from somewhere and offered it to her. She took it, blowing her nose noisily. "Why come here, Mistress, if it's so terrible?"

"Where else was I supposed to go?" she said bitterly. "If I stayed in the Empire, they'd throw me into the Arena, and I'm much too pretty for that. Where else could I go? Out among the barbarians in the North? I'd take the Arena over that, thank you."

"Poor Mistress Juno." Quaver took the handkerchief, shaking his head. "If the Master doesn't appreciate you, then he's a fool."

"Hmph. That's the first thing I've heard that's made sense all day." She wiped her eyes, pouting. "Will you- will you talk to him for me? I want to thank him for rescuing me. Personally."

"Of course, Mistress. The Master is a lucky boy, indeed." He offered her a clawed hand. "Now, Mistress, the Master would like it if you would join him for dinner. I've made roast troll!"

"Ugh." Juno shuddered, then paused. "Really? He asked for me?"

"Personally, Mistress."

"Hmm, well, then. Go on ahead, I'll meet you downstairs."

She opened her trunks when he had gone and surveyed her arsenal, holding up dresses and admiring herself in the mirror.

"You've never met anybody like me before, peasant girl," she purred. "And I've never met a man yet who I couldn't wrap around my little finger."

-x-

Kelda was staring at the troll haunch on her plate like she wanted to kill it a second time. She was hunkered deep into a parka, hood pulled low over her eyes.

"Kelda?" the witch boy asked hesitantly.

"What."

"Are you cold?"

"What? No, I'm fine."

"Then...why are you wearing your hunting gear? You look kind of sweaty."

"It's traditional Norbergian hunting gear, thank you very much. It's what we Nordbergians wear, in case you've forgotten."

"But I thought you hated Nordberg."

She stabbed a fork into the meat, twisting viciously.

"I do," she snapped. "But I hate the Empire even more."

"So, because you hate the Empire...you're wearing a parka."

"Exactly." She popped a forkful of troll into her mouth and chewed savagely, glaring up at him.

"Kelda, are you angry about something?"

"What do you _think_?"

"Yes, I think you might be. Did something happen?"

She gaped up at him, swallowed.

"You're kidding, right?" she asked incredulously.

"What do you mean?"

"You drag that painted-up Empire tart here without even a word to me, and-"

"Ooh, my knight in shining armor!"

Juno swept into the room in a cloud of perfume, wearing a red silk toga that somehow managed to stay just barely poised on her generous curves. Gold glinted at her wrists and throat, from her dark, curly hair.

"This looks...um...delicious," she said, settling herself into the chair to the Overlord's left with a little wiggle of her hips.

"That seat's taken, Empire," Kelda snapped from the depths of her hood.

"I don't see anyone sitting here." She pouted up at him, pleased to see that he'd turned out to be good-looking beneath the helmet- she'd slept with ugly men before, but it was so much more enjoyable when they were cute _and_ gullible. "Do you mind if I stay here?"

"No."

She scooted her chair closer, twirling her hair around her finger.

"What's for dinner?" she asked. "It looks delicious."

"It's troll," Kelda smirked at her. "Eat up, Empire. It's delicious."

"On second thought, maybe just a salad or something for me. I want to maintain my figure, after all."

Kelda shoved another forkful of troll into her mouth and glared at her, chewing noisily. Juno winced. What on _earth _was she wearing?

"Quaver, dear?" she called. "Can you be a darling and bring me a salad?"

He bobbed over to her side, scratched his ear quizzically.

"What's a salad, Mistress?"

"Oh, you know, leafy greens, maybe a bit of protein, some sort of dressing mixed in. Do you think you can handle that?"

"I always dearly love a challenge, Mistress!" He saluted and raced away to the kitchens.

"You've already met Quaver, then?" The Overlord asked. "Has he serenaded you yet? If he has, I'm sorry."

"Oh, he's a sweetheart," Juno said, shifting subtly in her chair. The red silk dress slipped fractionally lower.

"A sweetheart?" Kelda asked incredulously.

Juno ignored her, twined her arm through the Overlord's.

"You know, I think I will try just a bit of troll," she said. "Can I have just a little bit of yours?"

"Alright."

She opened her red lips, flicking her tongue against her teeth, eyes half-closed. After a moment she looked up, frowning, to see him staring at her. He was offering her his fork.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, of course," she said, momentarily flustered. "I- I meant for you to feed it to me, though."

Kelda snorted in amusement, face hidden in a goblet. Juno glared at her.

"Is this some kind of Empire custom?" he asked curiously.

"Something like that. Here, let me show you." She took the knife and fork with a dainty flick of her wrist. "Like this."

"Hmm," he said, bemused, chewing.

"Now you do the same for me," Juno purred.

Kelda growled and stood abruptly, dumped a plate of greasy meat over Juno's head in one quick motion. Juno shrieked.

"My hair!" She looked down at the grease dripping down her breast. "My dress! You bitch, do you know how much this _cost_?"

"For the Mistress!" Quaver said proudly.

He deposited a platter full of leaves and pine needles in front of her. Gravy dripped wetly down the slimy leaves. Something was trying to wriggle its way free. Juno looked around at them all, wild-eyed.

"You're horrible!" she cried, jumping to her feet, wiping frantically at her dress. "All of you, horrible! I hate you!"

She burst into tears and ran sobbing from the room.

"Heh." Kelda licked her fingers. "That'll show her."

"Gods damn it, Kelda." The Overlord rose, gave her an icy look that froze her in her tracks. "What's wrong with you?"

She stood, stunned, as he strode after Juno, sat down hard, looking at her hands.

"I just want things to be like they were before," she said in a small voice.

He'd never looked at her like that before, with such cold disapproval, as if he didn't know her, or even care to know her. She sniffed and rubbed at her nose with a furry sleeve.

She should go after him, she thought. She'd apologize...even apologize to bloody Juno, if that was what it took. It hurt, if he was more interested in some Empire harlot, but she'd push it down and ignore it. If she could be nothing else, she thought, she still wanted to be his friend, after all.

She rose and hurried up to the quarters, shrugging off her parka on the way.

"Witch boy?" she called, parting the curtains. "Witch boy, I'm sorry-"

Juno was sitting on the edge of the bed, red dress around her shoulders to reveal one perfect breast. Her hands were on the witch-boy's thighs. He looked utterly gob smacked. Kelda's vision darkened.

"I'm going to murder you," she said, clearly and distinctly.

"Oh please." Juno smiled at her, sliding her hands higher. "You wouldn't let anything happen to me, would you, sweetie?"

"Sweetie?" he asked, looking down at her hands.

Kelda snarled and hurled herself at Juno, knocking her off the bed. Juno squealed in outrage, grabbed a handful of auburn hair, and yanked. Kelda punched her in the nose. Juno toppled back on her ass, startled.

"You- you _hit_ me!" she cried. "You hit me in my _face_!"

"I'll do more than that," Kelda growled. "Get up and fight like a woman."

"Kelda!" The Overlord snarled.

"Shut UP!" she screamed, swinging wildly.

Juno rolled out of the way of her fists, scrambled to her feet, back against the wall. Kelda pulled a long knife from her boot and swept the air with it, teeth bared.

"No, please!" Juno babbled, dodged a swipe of the knife. "Don't cut me, you'll leave a scar!"

"I'm not just going to cut you, I'm going to kill you!"

Juno shrieked, stumbling down the stairs into the throne room. Kelda snarled and lunged at her, and the blade struck stone, snapped with a high ringing. Juno shrieked, flailing at her, as Kelda straddled her, slamming her down against the floor.

"Kelda! Juno! Stop this, _now_."

An invisible force seized Kelda by the temples. She growled, clawing at her head like a wolf in a trap. The force tightened its grip, and she felt her limbs grow stiff. Juno hissed like a cat beneath her and scratched at her face, and felt cold talons settle around her own mind. She gasped, going limp.

"Master, what's going on?" Gnarl hobbled into the room, stopped short at the site of the Mistresses. "Ohhh, I've had dreams like this."

"Gnarl, take Juno to her quarters, will you? I have to deal with Kelda."

"I...I need to go sit down," Gnarl said breathlessly, toddling into the fortress.

The iron grip loosened. Juno pulled free of Kelda and sat up, felt hundreds of yellow eyes on her. She flushed, pulling her toga up over her chest.

"I'll- I'll just be upstairs," she said, voice unsteady. "If you...if you want me."

She wobbled away, legs shaking.

Kelda glared up at him with eyes like flint, still locked in place, kneeling. He sighed.

"Minions. Leave us."

They began to grumble, and he raised his voice.

"Leave us! Get out!"

They hissed fearfully and skittered into the shadows. He sat heavily on his rough-hewn throne and stared thoughtfully at Kelda. She jerked fitfully at the invisible bonds that held her, flushed and panting, eyes promising murder.

"Things can't go on like this, Kelda," he said quietly. "I don't know what's wrong with you, but I can't have you here like this."

She stared at him mutely, face crumpling, said something very softly.

"What?" He released his hold on her, and she crumpled to her hands and knees, staring at the floor.

"I'll leave," she said again. "I'm sorry."

"Leave?" He rose, startled. "What do you mean, leave?"

"Isn't that what you want? To be left alone with _her_?"

"Alone with Juno?" he looked confused. "Why would I want that?"

"Because she's beautiful, and she's cultured, and she smells nice, and she's-"

"Full of useful information about the Empire."

"W-what?" She looked up at him, startled. "You're...you're _using _her?"

"Of course I am. She's been in and out of the Empire ports. She can get us past their mines."

"Is that all you want her for?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why was she half-naked in your bed?"

"She said she didn't have anything to wear. She wanted one of my tunics."

"Witch boy, she showed up with enough luggage for an entire army. You _believed_ her?" She looked up, searching his face, and then she sighed. "Of course you did."

He offered her a hand, pulled her to her feet. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek against his chest.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I was just so afraid I was going to lose you- that I was going to lose what we had together, after we'd just found each other again, and I-"

"I'm awfully hard to lose," he said, amused.

'You know what I mean." She rubbed her temples and made a face. "If you ever do that spooky thing to me again, though, I'll kick your arse."

"Really."

"Well, I'll at least try my damndest." She stood on tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his neck. 'Although you do look very...impressive...when you're angry."

"Oh, is that so?"

"Yes." She kissed the corner of his mouth. "You almost even scared _me_."

He made a low, feral noise, pulled her close and kissed her savagely. She gasped and then returned it, knotting her fingers in his hair. She guided him back across the throne room, pushed him back into the throne, sat on his lap, bit her lip, looking down at him with a furious hunger she'd never felt before.

"My witch boy," she whispered.

He lifted his face to hers, and she took his chin in both hands and kissed him, marveling at the strange feel of his skin beneath her fingers. She felt him harden beneath her and grinned down at him.

"I've waited too long for this," she gasped. "It's been far too long since I've been properly tumbled."

His hands paused in their exploration of her hips. She frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Hmm." She smiled, fumbling with his belt. "I know what's wrong. Let's get this heavy armor out of the way, and then-"

"Master, we've been over the maps Juno brought along, and-" Gnarl paused at the foot of the stairs, yellow eyes widening. He grinned lecherously. "Oh, oops. Don't mind me."

"I am going to kill him," Kelda muttered. "Seriously, Witch Boy, I'm going to kill him. Can I kill him? I'm going to kill him."

He lifted her from his lap and rose, gave her a wicked grin.

"Later," he promised again.

"Okay, now I'm going to kill _you_." She squeezed his hand. "Come find me when you're done, hey?"

-x-

The Overlord leaned over the ragged maps, frowning.

"Gnarl, I have a question," he said at last.

Gnarl looked up hurriedly from a bawdy scroll he'd found in Juno's luggage, rolled it hastily up and stuck it into a pocket of his robe.

"Ah, yes, Master. What can I help you with?"

"It's about..." the Overlord looked around, shooed a minion away. "It's about...er, it's about women."

"Oh?" Gnarl waggled his eyebrows. "Well, I have over eighty decades of experience, sire. What can I help you with?"

"I...I would like to know how to..."

"How to what, how to _what_, sire?"

"Um. How does one...please a woman?"

"Oh! Well, that's easy, sire. Women like pretty things. Buy them pretty things, tell them _they're_ pretty, and then-"

"That wasn't what I meant."

"Ah." Gnarl's eyes widened, realization dawning. "Aaaah! Close the door, sire, and I'll tell you what you want to know."

The Overlord slammed the heavy door on the inquisitive muzzles of a pair of minions who'd crept closer to eavesdrop. They leaned closer, straining to hear the muffled voices through the wood.

"...and then you take the...of course, pumpkins, and..."

"...really? With honey?... But what's the spoon for?"

"...wasps, so you have to be careful..."

"...but what about the..."

"...press above her...not too hard, sire, you must _listen _to a lady..."

"...you do _what_ with _what?!_..."

They fell silent. The minions back hurriedly away from the door, though not quickly enough. The door flew open, smashed them against the stone, as the Overlord stalked into the depths of the fortress.

"Worth it," one of them muttered.

Its friend gurgled in assent.

-x-

She was waiting for him in their quarters, perched on the edge of the fountain, sharpening her spear. She looked up with wicked eyes, testing the point with a finger.

"I've been waiting," she said, and then, "Come here."

She set the spear aside and slipped through the red curtains.

"I don't think I've had a chance to show you my hunting scars," she said.

She turned her back to him, stripped off her corset and dress, stood naked, hair blazing copper in the candlelight. Her slim sides glowed with firelight as she turned to him, suddenly shy.

"I hope _you_ like scars," she said quietly.

They traced over her curves like the markings on a cat, white and stark or red and angry against her pale skin. She traced a new scar on her leg, smiling faintly.

"This was from a seal bull," she said quietly. "This one was from a snow bear. These...I was whipped once, back when I was a slave." She bared her teeth. "I broke that soldier's arm. They never dared whip me again after that."

"You're beautiful," he said quietly, taking off his helmet, set it on the armor stand.

She flushed, crossing to him.

"Witch boy, you say the sweetest things."

"I...I don't have much time," he said hesitantly, unbuckling his heavy breastplate.

"Ooh, the five little words every woman loves to hear," she teased.

He was silent, pulling off his gauntlets. She looked up at him and frowned.

"Are you alright?" Her eyes widened as a thought occurred to her. "Oh. Oh my gods. You've...never done this before, have you?"

"I've spent the last thirteen years living in a tower with strange little goblins who are spawned from hives, Kelda. What do you think?"

"But you...er...you do know how this works, don't you?"

"I'm not stupid. I've read things. Talked to people."

"Oh my gods. Human people, I hope. You haven't been talking to Gnarl, have you?"

He didn't reply. She sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Are you disappointed?" he asked her.

"That you're a virgin?" she asked. "No, of course not."

"Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"A virgin."

"No." She brushed a strand of hair out of her face, suddenly shy. "Are _you_ disappointed?"

"By what?"

"By the fact that I'm not a virgin."

"No."

"You're not angry?"

"Why would I be angry? Would you be angry if I lay with other women?"

She thought for a second.

"No," she said slowly. "No, I don't think I'd be. So long as it's not bloody Juno, at least."

"So there's your answer."

"Hmm." She smiled up at him, wicked. "I'm not disappointed, witch boy, because there's so many wonderful things I can teach you."

"Like what?"

"Let me show you."

Her hands reached down, unbuckling his belt. She raised her face, and he bent to kiss her, hot as a summer wind. She shivered, stripping his trousers from his hips, pulled away from the kiss after a long moment and knelt in front of him.

"Oh," she said, surprised. "Oh, dear."

"Is something wrong?" he asked, self-conscious.

"Haaa." She grinned up at him. "No. I just didn't expect you to be so...er...so _big_, is all. I guess it makes sense, you're taller than any man I've ever known, so..."

She slid a hand along his cock, and he shuddered, She smiled at the reaction, took him into her mouth in one abrupt movement. He gasped, muscles tightening, as her lips worked against his shaft, her tongue quick and clever. Instinctively, he reached down, tangling his fingers in her hair. She moaned against his cock, the sound vibrating through him, sucking with a renewed urgency. He felt everything narrowing to a single bright point, the hot insistence of her lips on his shaft-

She pulled back, wiping her mouth, and he groaned.

"Gods _damnit_, Kelda!"

She climbed onto the bed and lay back, beckoned him.

"Come here," she whispered.

He pulled off trousers and greaves hastily, joined her in bed, cock throbbing. She seized him and pulled him close, guided his dick into the warmth of her cunt.

She was so hot, so soft, so yielding- and yet-

He held himself over her, looking at her, almost embarrassed. She felt him growing softer, and frowned.

'What's wrong?" she asked hesitantly. "Do I- do I not please you?"

"No, it's not- you're beautiful. I just- I don't know. There's something missing."

"Missing? What's missing?"

He made no reply. She sat up and slapped his shoulder, irritated.

'What's wrong?"

He shook his head.

"Come on, you big idiot, tell me!" She punched his shoulder, hard.

"Damn it, Kelda!"

He seized her by the wrists, rolled over on top of her. He stared down at her, breathing hard. She could feel his erection like iron against her leg. She grinned up at him, tugged at his grip.

'So," she whispered. "_This_ is what you like."

"What I like?" he asked, confused.

"You like it when I struggle," she whispered into his ear. "So make me struggle, Dark One. Make me beg."

He looked down at her, incredulous, and then he smiled. It was not a nice smile.

The minions had brought him books, over the years. Amongst the books had been numerous romances, delivered with plenty of winks and nudges. He'd read them all, of course, as he'd read everything he'd been able to get his hands on. Most of them had been full of heaving busoms and dashing knights, and ultimately, boring. But a few of the books they' brought him had...darker things, the promise of pleasure with pain.

He slammed her back against the bed, wrapped a broad hand around her throat. She choked, flailing at his wrist, kicked at his side. He pinned her leg with a hand and spread her thighs brutally apart, pushed his cock into her. She yelped, nails digging into his back, and he growled, bit her neck hard enough to make her whimper.

"Oh gods," she gasped. "Gods, yes! _Please!_"

"Shut up," he purred, and his hand tightened around her throat.

She bucked against him, vision darkening. She clawed at him, and a hand caught her wrists, pinned them above her head. She writhed against him, helpless, furious, burning with desire, knowing that his strength was far greater than her own, greater than that of any human man.

Her struggles lessened. Her limbs slackened. The hand around her throat loosened.

"Kelda?" he asked, concerned. "Shit! Did I hurt you? I didn't mean-"

She surged upwards beneath him, catching him off guard, flung him to the side. She grinned at him, twining her arms around his neck.

"Got you," she said.

"Minx." He grabbed her by the hips and lifted her bodily, dropped her on her stomach in front of him. "Just for that, I'll teach you a lesson you soon won't forget."

He pulled her up by the hips, thrust his cock deep inside her. She cried out as he filled her, trying to arc up against him. He pushed her down against the bed, tangled his fingers in her hair, yanking her head back against his fist.

Kelda moaned, her world narrowing to the thrust inside of her. She grabbed at the hand that held her auburn hair, nails digging into his skin.

"Oh gods," she whispered. "Gods, don't stop, don't stop, don't-"

He yanked at her hair, and she gasped, knuckles whitening. She pushed back against him, trying to take as much of his length into her as she could. He was filling her, filling her world, bright points of pleasure and pain, and nothing else existed but the pulse and rush of blood, the thrust of him into her, her muscles tightening, ears ringing, soul arcing-

She came in a hot rush, cunt spasming. As she came, the motion of her muscles against his cock pushed him over, and he came, too, wild and furious, lay gasping against her back, cradling her close.

"Oh my gods," Kelda said again, muffled by the blankets.

He pulled free of her, wrapped his dark arms around her.

'Was that alright?" he asked uncertainly.

"Ooooh, gods." She turned to face him, looking dazed. "Are you _sure_ that was your first time?"

"Yes, why?"

"Nevermind." She snuggled against his chest and smiled up at him. "That was wonderful. More than wonderful."

"I...didn't hurt you?"

She reached out, batted at his chin.

"Witch boy, if you haven't guessed by now, I like it rough."

"Ah. Are all...all women like you?"

"No, I don't think so. Just like all men are not like you."

"Ah."

She nudged his side with her elbow.

"As much as I'd love to lie with you forever, you have a glorious Empire to conquer."

"Hmm. Yes, I suppose I do."

"Bring me Solarius's head." She looked up at him, eyes feral. "I want to mount it in here, so he can watch us fuck."

He laughed, rose from the bed and donned his armor, bent to kiss her. She caught his arm as he turned to go, smiled up at him wickedly.

"Oh, and witch boy," she said. "Next time...keep the armor on."


	7. Chapter 7

Kelda woke the next morning, stretched, felt herself smiling. She rolled out of the rumpled bed and dressed, caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. She fingered a bite mark on her shoulder, blushing.

"You're grinning like an idiot," she told herself, mock-stern, and then surprised herself by laughing aloud.

She bounded out through the curtains, humming to herself. Juno squeaked, the book she'd been reading tumbling out of her hands and into the fountain.

"Good morning!" Kelda cried. "Here, let me!"

She fished the book out of the fountain and paused, looking at the cover.

"'Mysteries of the Goddess of Love'," she read. "Mind if I borrow this?"

"Um..."

"Thanks!"

She practically skipped away, singing to herself. Juno watched her go, shook her head.

"Everybody here is crazy," she muttered. "Completely crazy."

She rose, fixing her hair, swayed into the throne room.

"Gnarl?" she called. "Gnarl, is the Master in?"

The odd little creature looked up at her, weathered face creasing in a smile. She shifted, uncomfortable with the certainty that he was staring at her breasts.

"No, I'm sorry, Mistress, he left late last night. Although I could keep you company, if you like."

"No," she said hastily. "That won't be necessary."

She returned to her quarters, sighed, looking down at her luggage. She poked her head out of her room, beckoning to a minion.

"Excuse me. Hey, excuse me! Come in here, I need help unpacking."

"Yes, mistress!"

It dropped the fan it was holding with a clatter and scampered into her room, grinning up at her. She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Hang those dresses up, will you? And find a place for my jewelry."

"Yes, yes!" It began to open a chest, eager, but she stopped it with a firm hand.

"No, I'll handle _those_, thank you."

She pulled out a variety of scented oils and face paints, stacking them carefully on a vanity. Juno handled her own cosmetics, just as a legionnaire handled his own sword. She opened a hidden compartment, surveyed an array of glass vials full of aphrodisiacs, and smirked.

She heard something tear behind her and whirled, swearing. A lacy pair of knickers dangled from the minion's claw. It looked up at her, ears drooping.

"Oops."

"Get out!" She snapped. "Those cost almost a hundred Imperials, you filthy little cretin! Out!"

The minion yelped and scampered out. Juno picked up the ruined lace and sighed.

"I need decent servants," she said petulantly. "I can't believe I have to do everything _myself_."

She finished unpacking her gowns, fondling the soft fabric, remembering past conquests. She'd worn this green dress when she'd first met Senator Flavius, who had poisoned his own wife for her favor. She'd worn this golden little number when she'd convinced General Livius to wipe out that pesky little Elvish colony- the Elves had the nerve to settle on _her_ favorite sunbathing beach! And she'd been wearing this blue toga the day when silly old what's-his-name had thrown himself into the Arena, after she'd spurned him on account of his being too damn poor.

She sighed happily, buoyed up by the memory of past victories. She was _Juno_, for gods' sake. Poets had written odes to her, had driven themselves mad for her love. Men fought duels over her, had even gone to war for her. She smiled, sorting through her perfumes, applied a dab of scent between her breasts. A mere rough-spun peasant girl was nothing compared to her.

Juno glanced around her room, thinking. She was finished unpacking, although she could certainly use some new clothes to suit her new environment. Perhaps something slinky. She made her way to the throne room.

"Gnarl?" she asked, pouting. "Gnarl, I reeeally need to go shopping."

"Shopping?" the old minion asked her suspiciously. "What do you mean, 'shopping'?"

"I just need some odds and ends.,..some new lip paint, maybe a bit of jewelry. You know what I mean?"

"Er, I'm afraid I don't, Mistress."

"I'm going down to the village market." The peasant girl stood on the portal, adjusting a pack on her back. "I have a few things I want to buy. You can come with, if you want."

Juno eyed her suspiciously. Kelda sighed.

"Look, I'm not going to try to stab you again, alright? I talked to the wit- to the Master, and we worked some things out."

"Hmph," Juno said. "Well, then, I accept your apology."

"It wasn't-" Kelda began, then shrugged. "Never mind."

She eyed the other woman, who was wearing nothing but a thin toga that left little to the imagination.

_Full of valuable information about the Empire_, Kelda thought.

"You'll catch your death if you go out in that, though," she said. "I might have a coat you could wear. You'll want boots, too. Come on."

-x-

Juno stared down at herself as they walked to the market, wrinkling her nose.

"I look like a _peasant_," she complained. "Don't you have anything more stylish?"

"That's the only other coat I have," Kelda snapped.

Juno was wearing a long fur of black and white. The witch boy had brought Kelda back the skin of some massive bear, and she'd made it into a long coat. Juno stamped her feet in the unfamiliar boots and frowned.

"Your feet are _huge_," she complained. "My feet are just swimming in here!"

"I'm starting to regret taking you along," Kelda growled.

Juno fell mercifully silent for a moment.

"Hey, peasa- er, Kelda."

"What?"

"Do you have a lot of earth quakes around here?"

"Not really, why?"

"Well, it's just, last night everything was shaking, and- what's so funny?"

"Nothing."

Juno looked around critically, stepping gingerly through the snow.

"So," she said. "This is where you grew up? It's awfully...primitive."

"I like it well enough."

"Kelda." Juno pressed closer to her. "Why is everybody staring at us?" She frowned, nervously twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "They don't look very happy to see us."

"Most likely they're not too happy to see you, Empire. This town spent thirteen years under the Empire's heel, and the folk here aren't too quick to forget that."

"But...people like me," Juno protested. "I'm _pretty_!"

"Don't wander off," Kelda told her. "Come on, the market's down this way."

Juno sniffed critically, looking around.

"_This_ is your market?" she asked. "Where's the stalls selling the latest fashions? I don't even see a shoe stall anywhere!"

"There's a cobbler further into town. He can fix your boots if they need fixing."

"Boots?" Juno said despairingly. "What if I want a new pair of sandals? Or heels?"

The merchants were muttering to each other as they passed. Townspeople were trickling out of the market, mothers snatching children back as they walked by.

"Witch whore," she heard someone hiss behind her.

Juno spun, cheeks flaming, furious. A meat merchant gripped a cleaver, slammed it ferociously into the side of a seal. She winced, then realized that he wasn't looking at her- his burning gaze was fixed on Kelda's back.

If Kelda heard him, she gave no sign. She strode briskly to a stall hung with herbs and branches, manned by a mousy little woman. Kelda smiled at her, recognizing her from the slave barracks.

"Morning! It's Regna, right?"

Regna looked up, her eyes darting between the two of them, offered a shy smile.

"Yes, that's right." The butcher sank his cleaver into the counter of his stall with a curse, and Regna's eyes flicked to him, back to the two of them. "Can- can I help you?"

"I need a few bunches of woundwort, if you have any. I'd also like a few bushels of snowberries."

"O-of course." The woman hesitated, flushing. "Although, snowberries are hard to come by this time of year, so I'll- I'll have to charge you, er, triple."

"Triple?" Kelda exclaimed. "What the hell? Regna, I grew up around here. Snowberries grow all year 'round, they've never been scarce."

"Uh..." the woman looked panicked. "Well, with the Empire occupation...and...and..."

"Regna, what's going on?"

The woman leaned closer, conspiratorial.

"I _have_ to charge you more, you see, or people will start to talk."

"What are you talking about? Is it because of this Imperial? I'm not really that fond of her, if you must-"

"No, Kelda, it's not her." Regna twisted her fingers in her skirt, looking embarrassed. "It's you."

"What?"

"Ever since you took up with...with the Overlord, ma'am- long may he live- well, people have been talking, and...and it's not very nice, I'm sorry, and if I'm seen being all...all friendly-like with you, well, I could lose business."

"I've lived here my whole life!" Kelda snapped. "Don't be ridiculous!"

"I'm sorry, Kelda, ma'am. That's just the way it is."

"Huh." Kelda frowned. "Regna, can I ask you a question?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"When that one soldier was following you around and wouldn't let you alone, who saw him off with a broken nose?"

"You did."

"That's right." She raised her voice. "And in the winter, when there was nothing to eat because the Empire took it all, who was it who brought back the most game and made sure everybody had enough to eat?"

"You did," Regna muttered, flushing.

"And you, Erling!" Kelda turned, put her hands on her hips. "I see you skulking back there. When your mother took sick, who was it that went out into a blizzard to find help?"

"You, Miss," a man muttered into his beard, shame-faced.

The butcher slammed his cleaver into the wood, swearing under his breath. Kelda whirled and stalked up to him until they were almost nose to nose.

"Hello, Lief. Did you have something you wanted to say to me?"

He glared down at her. She smiled back, dangerous.

"If you have something to say to me, Lief, please, say it loud. We can settle this here and now."

The butcher swallowed, looking away. Kelda's eyes narrowed.

"You always were a coward." She looked around the market, still smiling. "I might not like the lot of you, and you may not like me, but don't you ever forget what I've done for you. Keep that in mind, and we'll get along fine."

She turned back to Regna in the thunderous silence.

"So. About those berries?"

"Ah, yes!" Regna scurried to bring them to her. "That will be- um- one copper, please."

"Regna, really?"

"Um, I mean, three coppers for the lot."

"Thank you." Kelda handed her the coins. "All I've ever wanted is for things to be fair."

Juno yawned, and Kelda arched an eyebrow at her.

"Bored?"

"Peasant politics are boring," Juno complained, examining her nails. "All that seemed a bit unnecessary, really. You can just pay people enough, and they'll like you. Why quibble over a couple of coppers? Gods know we can afford it."

"If you pay people enough, they'll _pretend_ to like you."

"Ugh. Same difference, in the end." Juno looked around, caught the eye of a merchant. He was young, and not half-bad looking for a Northerner. "Hmm. I'm going to wander around this market of yours. See if I can't find anything interesting."

"Suit yourself."

Juno strolled to the stall and began idly sorting through the odds and ends on display. It was a pathetic offering, really- the merchant seemed to offer little more than crude wooden carvings and various bits and bobs that had clearly seen better days.

"Can I help you, miss?" the shop keeper asked eagerly.

"Hmm, I don't know." Juno spared him a glance. "This is all rather...quaint."

"That's a lovely coat, miss, if you don't mind me saying so."

"Really?" She preened.

"I've never seen anything like it."

"It's the latest thing," she told him haughtily, trying on a ring. "What do you think of this, does it suit me?"

"Oh, very well, miss!"

"It's a little dull," she said sadly. "You wouldn't happen to have anything more suitable, would you?"

"Well..." he hesitated. "Since you're a fine lady, I'll show this to you."

He reached down and pulled out a heavy wood box, opened it to reveal a heavy gold necklace. The workmanship was exotic, like nothing Juno had seen before, covered in strange runes and jagged angles. It drew her eye through wild curves and sharp declines, dazzling her.

"Oh, that _is_ pretty," she gasped, astounded to find something like it in Nordberg, of all places. "Wherever did you find it?"

Kelda walked up beside her and stared down at it, frowning.

"Yes," she echoed. "Where did you get this?"

"My brother's a hunter, ma'am. He brought it back after one of his trips out in the hills."

"It's not from Nordberg, that's for sure." She glanced at Juno. "I don't think it's Empire, either, is it?"

"No, I've never seen anything quite like it before."

"It's not Elvish, either. How much do you want for it?"

"I saw it first!" Juno protested.

"For you, ma'am, I could part with it for a thousand Imperials."

Kelda just looked at him. He quailed.

"Eight hundred Imperials?"

She tapped her foot.

"Five hundred?"

"Hmm."

"Three hundred, ma'am, and that's my final offer!"

"Alright."

"That's not _fair_!" Juno snapped. "I saw it first, I _want_ it!"

"You can have it." Kelda tucked it into her pack. "I just want to show it to Gnarl first. See if he knows who made it."

"Oh." Juno paused, thinking. "So...since you're currently First Mistress...does that mean that you control the purse?"

"What do you mean, currently?"

Juno linked an arm through hers and gave her a charming smile.

"Because I could _really_ use some more money for some new clothes."

"I'm- I'm really not sure." Kelda tugged at her arm, trying to free it. "I'll think about it."

They stepped onto the portal together, Juno squeaking as it swept them below. Kelda, growing used to the transition, landed with ease.

"Oh, gods." Juno clung to her arm, looking pale. "That never feels right."

"You'll get used to it."

"Oh." Juno straightened, smiling. "Hello, tall, dark, and handsome."

"Witch boy!" Kelda said happily.

He looked up, sitting on the rough throne, minions straining to hold up piles of books and maps in front of him.

"Juno. Your information served us well. We have established a foothold in the Empire."

"My old home." She drifted to his side, looking down at the maps. "I never thought I'd see it like this."

She sounded almost...sad. Kelda looked at her sharply, wondering if she had misjudged her.

"We need a way into the city. Any suggestions?"

"Hmm." She leaned over his shoulder, her hand brushing his as she traced a painted finger along the map. "I've been to this manor before. It belongs to a Senator...he's more interested in wine and women than defense, and when I was there, at least, there weren't many soldiers, which was a shame...I like a man in uniform. If you take these lands, you'd be able to hold the whole port."

"Hmm," he said thoughtfully. "Yes, that could work."

"I'm not just a pretty face," she said smugly. "I listened when men in the Empire talked, a lot of the time. It's amazing what you can learn."

"I never thought you were just a pretty face."

Juno stopped, taken aback. She'd never heard that before.

"Well," she said, color rising. "Hmm. Thank you." She studied him. "So...I haven't asked you. What should I call you? Did she call you Witch Boy?"

She nodded at Kelda, who glared, putting a hand on her hip.

"Is that your name?"

He made an amused noise.

"No, that's not my name. I don't have a name."

"What? But everything has a name!"

"'Master' will do, if you like."

"I think I do."

She smiled at him coyly, and Kelda rolled her eyes.

"Come on, Juno, you can help me go through the clothes from the old tower. You'll like that."

"But I-"

Kelda gave her an arch look, and Juno sighed.

"Oh, very well. I'll see you later...Master."

She hooked her arm through Kelda's and strolled away. Kelda glanced over her shoulder and gave him a truly wicked smile. He watched the sway of her hips as she walked away, humming.

The Overlord shook his head, set the maps aside.

"Gnarl," he said.

"Yes, my lord?"

"Yesterday they were trying to kill each other. Now, they appear to be friends. What happened?"

"I have no idea, sire."

"I don't think I'll ever understand women."

"Who among us does, sire, really?"


	8. Chapter 8 (NSFW)

"What even _is_ this?" Juno asked, holding a moth-eaten dress against herself. "Who on earth would wear something like this? It's so...uptight." She picked up another dress, disgusted. "Look at this one! It goes all the way up to the chin!"

"I think they're rather pretty, in an old-fashioned way."

"Hmph. You would."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Ugh. Look at these. Shoes with curly toes." Juno picked them up, held them gingerly. "Have you ever seen anything so archaic?"

"I think these all belonged to his mother."

"Well, I can't say much for her sense of style." Juno sneezed. "It's so dusty in here! _Why_ are we doing this, again?"

"If we clean out some of these storage rooms, we'll have more space to expand the fortress. We might like a library, for one."

"What do _you_ want a library for?"

Kelda gave her a look.

"I can read, you know. I didn't just borrow your book for the pictures, although they were certainly...interesting. I'm not sure how you could get into some of those positions without breaking something important."

"Well," Juno said smugly. "It takes a certain...finesse."

"That's one way of putting it." Kelda dug through the strata of old garments, piling musty cloth in a basket. "You also never know what you're going to find in here. The other day I found a whole room of potions that do gods-know-what. I've been testing them out on the minions." She pulled a chest free with a grunt of effort. "Mostly, they just seem to kill them in interesting ways."

"What exactly are those little things, anyways?"

"I don't really know. Gnarl says they clawed their way up from the earth a long, long time ago to serve an Overlord." Kelda tried the lid of the chest, pulled her dagger from her belt. "I'm not sure if _he_ even knows exactly what they are. Maybe they're demons."

"They're awfully creepy."

"I think they're kind of cute." Kelda fiddled with the lock, and the chest popped open. "Oh! What is this?"

She picked up a bundle of soft velvet, unwrapped it to find a crystal the size of her fist. Golden threads snaked through the heart of it, sparking with magic, held a memory within. A small image of a red-haired woman danced and sparkled in the center, looking up from a perfect red rose, caught in a smile, over and over again in an eternity of sunlight.

"I think this might be his mother," Kelda said slowly. "The witch-boy's."

"She doesn't look much like him," Juno said dubiously. "She looks human."

"I think she was."

"What happened to her?"

"I don't know. He says he doesn't remember her." Kelda wrapped the crystal up, extinguishing its light. "What was your mother like?"

"Beautiful, of course." Juno smiled, twirling a strand of dark hair around her finger. "Everyone says I get my looks from her. It was a great scandal when my father married her- he was a Senator, and she was just a commoner. Her family came from the...from the _sewers_."

"Are they still alive?"

"Hardly! Do you think my father would have let that awful Governess send me to the Arena? No, my mother died when I was quite young. Daddy was never the same afterward. He whored and gambled the rest of our money away until he caught some nasty wasting disease and died in a dirty little brothel."

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, don't be. I don't need your sympathy." Juno smiled. "I learned a few tricks from the girls who worked there before I knew enough to make it on my own in the world."

"Wait," Kelda asked, not sure if she had misheard her. "You were a- a whore?"

"Such an ugly word." Juno said airily. "I prefer the term 'courtesan'. I was famous and rich enough to be selective. Sometimes men just wanted to spend time with someone other than their wives- someone who will at the very least pretend to listen."

"Huh. I don't know, that doesn't sound quite fair to their wives."

"Oh, to hell with them. It was those same wives who wanted me thrown in the Arena! If they didn't want their husbands to lose interest, then they shouldn't have been so fat and boring." Juno looked around, frowning. "Are we done here? Because this is awfully dull."

"Don't you care about any of this?" Kelda asked her. "Don't you want to know more about him? His name, for one?"

"As long as he keeps bringing me shiny things, I don't exactly care." Juno examined her nails. "He'll do for me, for now."

"You don't deserve him," Kelda snapped.

"Like you do?" Juno gave her a contemptuous look. "With _that_ hair?"

Kelda looked back, chilly.

"We're done here," she said. "You can go."

Kelda tucked the crystal into a pocket in her skirt, watching the other woman walk away. She shook her head and sighed. She'd hoped to find more depth in Juno, but it seemed that she was just as she appeared- haughty, vain, and self-adsorbed. Kelda could hardly wait until the Empire campaign was over- the sooner she was rid of Juno, the better.

-x-

Kelda found Gnarl puttering about among the minion hives, inspecting the new crop of spawn. He was holding a minionling up, giving it a critical look. It kicked and growled fiercely at him, swiping with tiny claws, and his leathery lips creased in a smile.

"Gnarl, can I ask you something?"

"Hmm?" He set the spawn down, and it scampered back into the safety of the hive, squeaking. "Mistress Kelda? Can I help you?"

"It's about something I found in Nordberg today." Kelda pulled the necklace from her skirt pocket and offered it to him. "Have you ever seen anything like this?"

"Hmm." He took it in a pair of weathered claws. "Mistress, this is Dwarven!"

"Dwarven? I thought that dwarves were a myth."

"No, Mistress, not a myth. I've seen them with my own eyes. They're a nasty sort...far too industrious for their own good, if you ask me."

"But what was it doing in Nordberg?"

"I have no idea, Mistress."

"The merchant said that hunters found it." She took the necklace, musing. "I want to know where."

"As far as I know, Mistress, the dwarves fled into the depths of their mountains years ago, after the Master's father defeated their king. Perhaps the hunters found an abandoned settlement?"

"Maybe."

"You should look into it, Mistress. If there is a Dwarven ruin nearby, it may have things we can use. Dwarves make the most exciting war machines."

"I'll do that."

"Ah, Master!" Gnarl turned, brightening. "Come to inspect the new spawn? They're growing up well, sire- they're nice and feisty."

"Brown spawn?"

"Yes, my lord!"

"Good, we need more foot soldiers."

The Overlord extended a hand, and Kelda felt a subsonic call resonate through her bones. The minionlings poured out of the hive in a torrent, squeaking indignantly. She caught one as it bounded past her.

"Oh, they're so _cute_!" she exclaimed, holding it aloft.

It nipped at her hands with tiny teeth, not even managing to break the skin. She laughed and let it go.

"They look like they're growing up well." The Overlord crouched down, and a minionling nibbled his fingers. "I don't think we'll need to cull any from this batch. They all look strong."

"Fierce little things, aren't they?" Kelda said fondly.

He rose, made a swift gesture, and the minionlings scurried back into the hive.

"Do you come down here often?" she asked him.

"Sometimes. I used to spend a lot of time down here when I was younger, chasing minions through the caves."

"Good times, my lord," Gnarl said fondly.

"Oh! That reminds me." Kelda pulled the crystal from her pocket, unwrapping it. "I found this when I was cleaning out some of the stuff from the old tower. Is this- was this your mother?"

He took the stone from her, staring into its depths. For a moment he remembered- sad eyes, busy hands, the taste of tears, the cold shock of abandonment- and then it was gone.

"Yes," he said softly. His hand tightened on it, angry.

"Ah, sire." Gnarl took the crystal from his hands, "Now's not the time for that, we have a glorious empire to conquer. I'll just hold on to this, for now."

"I'm sorry," Kelda said, taken aback. "I was just curious, that's all."

"She doesn't matter," the Overlord said.

"Well...if you say so." She took his hand, smiled up at him. "Well, why don't you tell me about your adventures in the Empire? I'm curious about what it's like there."

"Ah, yes." His eyes kindled. "Gnarl, there were _sheep_ there! They're fantastic when they're on fire, I've never seen anything blaze quite like that!"

"Ah, sheep," Gnarl said fondly, gaze growing distant. "There's nothing like a bit of fresh mutton, sire, cooked right on the hoof."

"Come and tell me all about it," Kelda insisted.

"But I am telling you-"

"Alone?"

"Oh. Oh!"

-x-

She pulled him after her to their private quarters, almost hauled him bodily through the curtain. This time, they didn't even make it as far as the bed.

He pushed her down to the floor as soon as the curtains closed, hiking her skirts up around her hips, pulled his trousers down in a swift, savage motion. He seized her hips, fingers digging into her pale skin, thrust into her, bestial.

"Ah!"

She gasped, pushing her hips back against him, stiffened suddenly.

"No, stop!"

His fingers tangled in her hair. She slapped his wrist, annoyed.

"No, really, hold on. Your helmet."

"What about it?"

She pulled away, face crimson, pulling her skirt down.

"Gnarl can _see_ me," she hissed.

"Oh. Shit."

He pulled the helmet off, flung it into a corner.

"He's going to be terribly disappointed." he said, grinning down at her.

"I'm sure he'll get through it, somehow," she said dryly, twisting to face him.

He gave no answer, only slammed her back against the floor in reply, hard enough to wind her. She wrapped her legs around him as he forced himself into her, gasping for breath, his weight almost enough to crush her.

"Gods," she moaned. "Oh gods, don't stop-"

"Do you really think I'm about to?" he asked, amused, pulling back.

"Shut up," she gasped, hands tightening on his ass, pushing him into her. "I said, don't fucking stop!"

He growled, pounding into her, ferocious, hard enough to bruise against the stone. She heard herself moaning, feeling the muscles of his lower back tense beneath her hands. She felt the ground shake beneath them, legs wrapped around his waist, as he pushed deep into her, fierce, feral-

She cried out, shuddering, as she came, lay gasping beneath him. He bit her ear, hard enough to hurt, and she gasped. He held her, so tightly she thought he would break her, fucking her so savagely she thought for an instant that he would tear her apart.

He came in a rush, snarling like an animal, chest heaving, collapsed against her. She stroked his hair, gasping for breath, sweat mingling in the lava's light. They lay for a long moment in a tangle of limbs before he stirred, pulling away.

"Don't go." Her arms tightened around his waist. "Stay with me, just for tonight."

He looked down at her, smiling.

"Alright."

Later, they lay together in the vast bed, her breath slowing against his chest.

"I've only ever wanted this," she said sleepily.

"Only ever wanted what?"

"To be with you." She yawned, pulling the furs closer around herself, snuggling back against him. "I missed you."

She felt his arms tighten around her in response. She lay back against him and closed her eyes, fell into a sleep full of wolves and fire.

She woke to the sound of pages turning, sat up sleepily, rubbing her eyes.

"Witch boy?" she asked.

He looked over at her, flipping through the book she'd borrowed from Juno. She flushed.

"Oh, you're reading _that_?" she asked. "That's not mine, by the way, it's Juno's."

"It's fascinating," he said slowly. "How are some of these even possible?"

He showed her the page he was looking at.

"'The Dolphin'," she read aloud, looking at the picture. "I think maybe you'd both have to be contortionists. And maybe have a couple of extra joints in your arms."

"These don't exactly look pleasurable."

"Not at all. I think it's maybe more about the novelty of it...being able to cross that position off your list, maybe?"

"Should we try that?"

"I don't think I can bend that way. Can you?"

"No," he admitted. "Not without serious structural damage."

"I mean, we can try it, if you want to-"

"No, that's alright."

"No," she agreed. "But...maybe..."

She twisted to face him, reached down and stroked his cock, turned her face up to his and kissed him.

"There's a couple of other positions we might try," she said shyly. "If you want to."

"No," he said, stone-faced. "I don't want to. Not at all."

Kelda pulled back, startled, and then slapped his shoulder.

"Bastard. Fine. I'll just get dressed then."

She started to sit up, but he caught her hips and pulled her closer with a low growl. She smirked.

"Oh, changed your mind, did you?"

He spread her legs apart, brutal, holding her leg by the ankle. He looked down at her for a moment, smiled slowly. She grinned back, gasped as he entered her, nails digging into his shoulders, hard enough to pierce his rough skin. He snarled, bit her neck, felt her moan vibrating against his mouth.

She moved her hips against him, forcing herself against him, clawed her nails down his back. He hissed, flipped her over on her back, lifted her legs above her head and pushed into her. She wrapped her legs around his neck.

"Gods, witch boy," she gasped. "_Harder_."

He bent to kiss her, biting her lip. She shivered, arcing her body against his, reveling his the heat of his skin. She bit him back, ferocious, and heard him make a low noise of pleasure.

She felt so _good_, writhing beneath him, moaning, helpless. He felt her legs tense under his grip as she pushed her hips against him, crying out. He fondled her breast with a broad hand, twisted her nipple until she squeaked. She opened her legs even wider, gasping.

"Please," she was crying, almost non-verbal. "Oh gods, yes!"

He felt her come, her body shuddering. He gripped her ass, hard enough to bruise, lifting her up as he fucked her, her legs over his shoulders.

He came, a hot rush between her legs. She panted, pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around his neck, gasping against his chest.

"Oh, my gods," she said again. "I'll never get tired of that."

She felt him stroke her hair, pulled him closer, arms tightening.

"Take care of yourself out there," she said softly, looked him up and down, eyes dancing. "I'd hate to lose all this."

"I'll be back soon." He kissed her shoulder. "I can't stay away from you, even if I wanted to."

She gave him a dirty look, smirking.

"Why would you _want_ to?"

"That...wasn't what I meant."

"I'm kidding, witch boy."

"Oh." He smiled down at her, relieved, pulling on his armor.

He was so naive sometimes, taking everything she said at face value. It was kind of...cute, even. She rose and pressed herself against him, felt the sharp carved edges of his armor against her bare skin.

"Good luck," she whispered, handed him his helmet. "Come back soon...I'll be waiting."

Kelda watched him stride away, a smile playing across her lips. It was strange, she thought- she understood why the villagers were afraid of him, and she knew he could break her in half without even making an effort, but there were times when he could just be...well, almost adorable.

She shook her head. She didn't have time to flit about like some lovelorn lass all day. She pulled on her parka and slipped the Dwarven necklace into her pocket, thoughtful. She had some hunting to do.

-x-

Queen Fay, ruler of the fair folk, sat in her bower, head bent over an ancient tome. She paused, running a slender finger down the page, stopped and stared into the middle distance, eyes sad.

"My lady!" A pixie buzzed up next to her, took the book from her unresisting hands with padded fingers. "Whatever are you reading? 'Might Conquers Right'?! My lady, please, don't read such depressing things!"

Fay started, blinked, coming back to herself.

"Oh, Petunia. I'm sorry, I was lost in thought."

"My lady, don't dwell on the past," the pixie said soothingly, struggling to shove the book into an already overstuffed shelf. "It's not healthy."

"But someone must think of the past if we are not to repeat it." Fay gazed out over the Last Sanctuary, one slender hand trailing through the ivy that grew in jubilant riot over the white stone. It trembled at her touch, twining happy tendrils around her fingers. "I used to think that becoming one with nature was the will of the Mother Goddess. Now, I'm not so sure."

"Everything will work out," the pixie said soothingly. "Your people are happy."

"They may be happy, but are they _safe_?" Fay shook her head. "That...that awful dark _creature_, he tore through our defenses like they were paper." She clenched her fist. "Thinking of that _beast_, Lily, it just makes me so furious." She stood, pacing. "I _hate_ him."

"My lady!" the pixie said, shocked. "You shouldn't let that creature affect you so."

"Do you know what he did, after he killed my troll?"

"My lady, please, try to relax."

"That monster left a _letter_, crumpled in the chest of one of my best from Everlight, thanking me for the gift! Of all the cruel, wicked-"

"Lady Fay." The pixie steered her towards her bedroom with surprising strength. "You're getting much to agitated, dear. You need to rest."

"No," Fay insisted. "There's too much to do."

"But, my lady-"

"I'm going to pray."

She knelt before a statue of the Mother Goddess, listening for that still, small voice she had heard as a child.

"Please," she prayed. "Please, Mother. Hear my plea. I don't...I don't know what to do."

The Mother did not answer her. Fay felt her heart quail, traitorous, wondered for an instant if the Goddess was listening, if she even existed at all.

"Lady Fay!"

She turned, startled. Her lieutenant bowed, looking unusually grim.

"Florian?" she asked. "What is it?"

"I'm sorry to interrupt your prayers, my lady. I'm afraid I've got terrible news. The Empire's, like, digging all the way down to us. They'll be here in a few days if we can't find a way to stop 'em."

"No," she breathed. "How did they find us?"

"They're after that dark beast, my lady. They're trying to dig down to the Netherworld, and we're just in their way."

"Oh, Goddess." Her hand went to her heart.

She didn't know what to do. She stared out over the green peace of the Last Sanctuary, wishing that the Goddess would speak to her again.

"He is...powerful..." she said at last. "Do you think he could stop them?"

"The guy who calls himself the Overlord?" Florian tilted his head, considering. "I think, just maybe, he could."

"Then I know what I must do." Fay drew herself to her full, scant height, looked back once at the statue of the Mother Goddess. "Forgive me, Mother...I cannot see another way."


	9. Chapter 9

Kelda crouched above the market, watching the merchant who'd sold her the Dwarven necklace lashing heavy bundles to a pair of caribou. Their breath steamed in the chill night air as he worked swiftly, glancing nervously around.

"Hi."

The merchant squeaked as Kelda dropped down next to him, gave him a cheerful smile. The caribou started, stamping their hooves, and he struggled to quiet them.

"Nice morning, isn't it?"

"It's- it's two in the morning, ma'am!"

She shrugged.

"Eh, close enough. Anyways, what's a nice fellow like you doing out so late?"

"I- I-."

Kelda just smiled at him, leaning on her spear. He swallowed hard.

"I'm bringing my brother and the other hunters some supplies, ma'am. Food and whatnont, you know."

"So late?"

"Uh...it's what they asked me to do, ma'am. And, uh, they did tell me to keep it a secret, so..."

"Hmm." She took the reigns of one of the caribou. "Tell you what, I'll come with you!"

"Um...that's...that's really not necessary, ma'am."

"Oh, nonsense. It's dangerous out there." Kelda gave him a smile that was full of teeth. "There's wolves and who knows what else. I'll make sure that nothing happens to you."

"Er..." The merchant swallowed hard. "Yes, ma'am."

"I just want to find out where that necklace came from. I'm curious. Aren't you?"

"Er...not particularly, ma'am."

He led her out of town down a winding trail, up and into the hills. Kelda looked around, frowning.

"Has your brother told you what they've been hunting?"

"No, ma'am."

"Have you seen him bring back any game recently?"

"Huh." The merchant scratched his head. "Come to think of it, I haven't."

He led her through a rocky pass towards a hidden copse of pines.

"They've got a cave out this way," he told her conversationally. "I bring them up supplies maybe once every few weeks."

"How do they pay you?"

"Gold and silver coins, ma'am." He fished one out of his pocket. "Bit funny-looking, if you ask me, but gold is gold."

There was a sharp whistle above them.

"Stay where you are!"

Kelda looked up into the gleaming point of an arrow. A hunter peered down at them, face streaked with camouflaging dirt and soot.

"I thought we told you to come alone, Kris!" The hunter shouted. "Who's that with you, then?"

She pulled back her hood and waved. He lowered the arrow and grinned.

"Kelda!" He swung himself out of the tree and landed, sinking up to his knees in the powdery snow. "Little Kelda!"

"Hello, Bjorn. It's been a long time!"

He struggled out of the snow and grabbed her in a bear hug that knocked the breath out of her, spinning her around.

"We haven't seen you in months, little fox! We were worried about you!"

She pushed him back, grinning.

"I'm fine, Bjorn. In fact, I'm incredible."

"What brings you out our way?"

She nodded at the merchant.

"I'm hunting again, but this time I'm after some information. Your friend was selling something strange in his stall, and said that some of the hunters found it up in the caves."

"Oh?" Bjorn's gaze flickered to the merchant, back to her. "What was it?"

"A necklace." She pulled it out of her pocket to show him. "Have you ever seen anything like this out here?"

"Oh." He was uncharacteristically silent, gave her an unconvincing smile. "No, I've never seen anything quite like that before, but you can ask around the camp." He took the reigns of one of the caribou. "Come on, everyone's still awake. We had a good hunt today, so we're celebrating."

Something strange was going on. She frowned, following after him.

Bjorn waved as they entered the camp.

"Hallo! Supplies are here!"

A grey-haired hunter rose, lined face darkening.

"Bjorn, why aren't you on guard?"

"Oh, to hell with it, Sven, look who came up with the supplies! It's little Kelda!"

Sven gave her a hard look, considering.

"Kelda? What are you doing here?"

"Hello to you, too, Sven," she said sarcastically. "Can't a girl come by and visit old friends?"

"Friends," Sven said dubiously. "Huh."

She leaned on her spear and gave him a wry smile.

"Oh, come off it, Sven. You can't still be pissed that I took down that old seal bull you were after, can you?"

"My arrow was in its hide, woman," he grumbled.

"So was mine, and the arrows of half a dozen other hunters here. You're just mad that I was the one that finally got to kill the old bastard."

"Cheeky little brat," Sven said.

"Grumpy old coot," she said fondly.

He laughed aloud and hugged her.

"Come here, you troublesome wench. What brings you out here, really?"

She hugged him hard enough to make his ribs creak, smiling. Sven was the closest thing to a father she'd had after hers had been killed. He was cranky, bad-tempered, and he smelled worse than the greens, but there was no other hunter she'd rather have with her out on the ice.

"I had a couple of questions about a necklace one of you lot found out here."

"Necklace?" For a second, she felt him stiffen, and then he smiled down at her. "I don't think any of us found a necklace out here, of all places. Why, did you lose one?"

"No..." she said, confused, pulling it out of her pocket. "It was this one, see? Strange-looking, isn't it?" She jerked a thumb back at the merchant. "He told me his brother said one of you found it out here."

"Hmm." Sven gave the merchant a look. "Well, he must have been mistaken."

"But-"

"We'll talk later," Sven said, suddenly jovial. "Come, eat with us! We have roast caribou, and good ale. The hunt was good today- come celebrate with us!" He took the necklace from her hands. "I'll pass this around while we eat, see if anybody knows anything about it."

"I don't know-" she said dubiously.

One of the other hunters rose, pressing a mug of hot cider into her hands.

"Come on, Kelda! It's been so long since we've had a proper feast together! Tell us what you've been hunting!"

"Oh, alright." She sat on a log next to Sven, grinning. "I _did_ manage to take down a saber cat."

"Sealshit!" A hunter exclaimed.

"No, no, it's true!" She turned to him, warming to the tale. "It must have been ten- no- fifteen feet long! I was in the woods tracking caribou..."

The tale-weaving and singing went on until it was almost dawn, hunters dancing out the stories of their hunts in the flickering glow of the flame. Kelda sat back, watching the other hunters as they spun and stalked, wrapped in the skins of the animals they'd claimed.

"I've missed this," she admitted to Bjorn.

The big man gave her an awkward smile, swaying a bit from the cider, handed her another mug.

"We've missed you, too, little fox. What have you been up to these days?"

"Oh, it's a long story." She took a drink, leaning back. "Well...like you know, I was a slave, and then the witch boy came back, and now I'm not a slave, and now I'm with him, I suppose."

"What do you mean, with him?"

She flushed.

"I- er- I live with him, now, I guess? I didn't really have anywhere else to go."

Bjorn's shoulders slumped.

"You could have come and stayed with us, you know."

She punched his shoulder.

"What, and show you lot up every time we go hunting? Come on. Plus," she said, wrinkling her nose. "I need a bath every now and then."

"Eh, dirt is more natural. Gives you a healthy, earthy smell, so the prey can't smell you coming."

"I'm pretty sure _everything_ can smell you coming from miles away, Bjorn. You should really try bathing some time, see if your luck improves."

"What do I look like, a bloody Imperial?"

She laughed aloud, swaying.

"Oh, damn it, I've missed you bunch of animals. I'll have to come visit more often."

Sven sat next to them, leaning forward.

"Did I hear you say you're living with our Overlord, Kelda?"

"Oh." She felt her cheeks heat again. "Yes. It's pretty nice, actually."

"And he doesn't care if you're out and about with us?"

"Why should he care? I'm not his slave or something, gods! I go where I want."

"And you don't- he doesn't make you tell him where you're going?"

Kelda made a face at him.

"I'm not _property, _I'm a grown woman! He doesn't even know where I'm off to half the time."

"So he doesn't know you're out here?"

"No, why?" She squinted up at him, vision blurring, put out a hand to steady herself and slid off the log. "I don't-"

She hadn't had that much to drink. Kelda stared up at them both, willing her eyes to focus.

"What's happening?" she asked thickly.

Her tongue felt numb. Her fingertips were tingling. She willed her body to stand, got no response.

"What did you do to me?" she slurred.

"Pick her up and put her in my hut," Sven sighed. "We'll decide what to do with her later. Gods. Of all the people to find out, why did it have to be _her?_"

She felt big arms scoop her up. Bjorn cradled her against his chest.

"Sorry about this, little fox," he muttered. "But we can't have you going around asking questions."

He dumped her on the floor of an igloo, covering her carefully with a blanket.

"Sorry," he whispered again.

Kelda lay mute, unable to move. She willed her limbs to stir, tried to open her mouth to scream, to speak, to do anything, to no avail. She heard her breath rasping in her ears. Everything seemed to be moving very slowly. She wondered dimly if they'd poisoned her.

"We just can't let her go back!" she heard Sven mutter. "If the witch-boy finds out what we've been up to out here..."

"But what are we supposed to do?" Bjorn rumbled. "She's seen the necklace, and Kris said she was asking a lot of questions."

"We could leave her out in the snow," Sven said slowly.

"Ah, Sven, we can't do that."

"You're right. Someone might find the body. Toss her into the sea, then."

"Sven, no!" Bjorn protested. "This is little Kelda we're talking about."

"She's taken up with that witch boy, though," one of the other hunters said grimly. "She's not our Kelda anymore."

"But we can't just kill her! That's hardly sporting."

"But we have to do something, Bjorn. We have to get rid of her."

"Fine, then you do it."

"Me? Why me?"

"This whole thing was your idea."

"Very well. I'll do it."

Sven stomped into the igloo, a long dagger in his hand. The hunters muttered outside, angry. Kelda stared up at him, straining to speak. He stared down at her, lined face twisting. After a moment, he turned away and walked out.

"Gods damn it, I can't do it. Why did Kris have to show her that bloody necklace? Why did she have to come after us? We have to get rid of her."

"Maybe we could swear her to secrecy? She's a hunter, too, Sven, maybe she'd-"

"We can't take that chance." She heard the sound of boots crunching back and forth in the snow. "Take her deep into the caves and leave her there with the clothes on her back and nothing more. If the gods smile on her, she'll find her way out again."

"Sven, nobody can find their way out of those caves without a guide, you know that-"

"Gods damn it, Bjorn, I don't like this any more than you do, but it has to be done."

"But we can't-"

"Don't argue with me, Bjorn. We're all in this together now."

"Alright," Bjorn said, defeated. "Alright. I'll do it."

Kelda heard Bjorn enter the hut. He scooped her up, and she glared at him blearily.

"I'm so sorry," he said softly. "I wish it didn't have to be this way."

He carried her to the cave mouth. A hunter handed him a torch, and he looked back. Sven stared at him, eyes hard. Bjorn heaved a sigh and walked into the cave.

Kelda felt herself sinking lower, deeper. Her head was spinning, consciousness slipping out of reach.

"No," she tried to whisper, heard nothing but a cracked groan. "No, please, don't-"

Her thoughts fluttered, ghostlike. She felt her head loll back as she slid deeper into darkness.


	10. Chapter 10 (NSFW)

The Overlord landed with a groan of stone and a flash of blue fire, carrying what looked like a chaise lounge on one broad shoulder. Gnarl gave him a wry look as he practically bounded out of the portal. He knew the boy well enough to know that he was grinning like an idiot under the helmet.

"Master," he sighed, for what felt like the hundredth time. "What are you _doing_? The minions can carry those for you. Being Overlord means you don't have to do any heavy lifting!"

The lad shrugged.

"It's not heavy."

"That's not the _point_, sire!"

"Is Kelda around?"

"Mistress Kelda is out hunting, sire. She said she might be gone for awhile."

"Oh," he said, sounding disappointed. "Well, Juno's upstairs, right?"

"Mistress Juno is in the private quarters, sire." Gnarl paused, eyeing him. "You should really go get more...acquainted...with her. At the very least go _talk _to her. You've hardly said two words to her since she came here!"

"She's confusing," the boy said slowly. "I think I'd be happy just maybe...looking at her."

"She certainly does brighten the place up, sire," Gnarl said patiently. "But I do think she wants you to do more than look at her. Much more."

"I mean, I know she's trying to...manipulate me, but somehow, I don't really mind it." He sat on the lounge, dwarfing it. "Does that make sense?"

"Sometimes it can be rather nice to be manipulated, sire. Maybe you should go engage in a little bit of mutual manipulation."

The lad threw him an exasperated look. Gnarl just grinned.

"Go on, then. You're young! Go enjoy yourself."

"And keep the helmet on this time, is that right?"

Gnarl gave him a look that was all wide-eyed innocence, pressing his hand to his heart.

"Sire, you wound me! I just want you to enjoy yourself, that's all."

The boy snorted in a most undignified fashion.

"It's true, sire! Juno's mad for you, I can tell."

"So long as I'm a steady source of gold."

"So cynical, for one so young!" Gnarl mourned.

"Well, yes, you were the one who raised me, after all."

"Point taken."

"She's...a little intimidating," he admitted.

Gnarl raised an eyebrow.

"More so than _Kelda_?" he asked, incredulous.

"I've known Kelda since I could hardly talk. We grew up together. But Juno...she's had so much experience. What if I don't..."

He fell silent. Gnarl rolled his eyes. Young men and their inadequacy issues.

"Sire, you are the demon lord of Nordberg, and, I might point out, her savior and benefactor. A woman like Juno is willing to overlook a little...inexperience...for that." He reached up and patted his shoulder. "Think of this as an...educational experience."

"Right." The Dark Lord rose, hesitated. "You're right. I should talk to her, at least. I can do that."

Gnarl sighed. The boy would dive into battle without a second's hesitation, and moved with all the grace of a snow cat, but around women he was awkward and almost, even, shy. He supposed he was partly to blame- being raised by minions didn't exactly lend one to social graces.

"Right," the Overlord said again.

He picked up the chaise and clanked upstairs.

Juno was sitting by the fountain, brushing her hair. He stopped short, staring at her. He'd never seen hair quite like hers, dark as her wicked eyes, spilling in a wild confusion of curls over her olive-skinned shoulders. She turned and saw him, rose and walked to him, toga clinging to her hips.

"Welcome home, Master," she purred.

"I brought you this!" he said abruptly, dropped the chaise lounge in front of her.

She stopped short, startled, blinked at it.

"Oh. Er. Thank you. What is it?"

"Um. It's some kind of chair?" he said uncertainly. "You said something about needing more furniture. If you don't like it, I can find somewhere else to put it, I guess."

"Oh! No!" She smiled up at him. "How thoughtful. You can just put it in my bedroom."

"Oh. Right." He picked it up again, followed her.

"Go ahead and put it over there, against the wall," She directed him, leaning back most distractingly on the bed. "Oh, and while you're here, could you move that vanity for me? Oh yes, that's just perfect."

She smiled up at him, red lips perfectly painted. He stared back at her, feeling oddly flushed.

"Thank you," she said. "You've really gone to a lot of trouble to make me feel at home, haven't you?"

"Is there anything else you need?"

"Oh, some more space to myself would be nice." Juno rolled her eyes. "I don't know why you insist on keeping that peasant girl around, to be honest. Her room is so much _bigger_ than mine."

"I can have the minions knock out a wall for you, maybe."

"It's really quite irresponsible of her to go running off hunting at a time like this, don't you think?" She asked him. "Don't you think I would make a better First Mistress?"

She said it like it was a title. He stared at her, not sure how to reply. She smiled and shifted, a motion that pulled the white linen toga tighter against her breasts, patted the space on the bed next to her.

"Why don't you come here and let me show you?"

"I should, uh. I should go get cleaned up," he said hastily. "I'll, um, talk to you later."

He almost tripped over himself in his hurry to get out of the room. Juno stared after him, pouting, wondering what was wrong with him. He was obviously interested in her, that much was apparent from the way he watched her. But the way he spoke to her- it was almost as if he'd never really been with a woma-

She stopped short and sat up, smiling like a cat as the pieces fell into place.

"Well," she murmured. "This is going to be fun."

-x-

He sank into the magma-heated warmth of the baths with a sigh, closing his golden eyes. For a minute or two he let himself drift, thinking of nothing, letting his head clear. Solitude was a rarity in the minion-infested fortress, which made it all the more precious.

"Do you mind if I join you?"

He opened his eyes, frowning. Juno stood at the edge of the bath, wearing nothing but a towel around her generous curves. He swallowed, trying to find his voice.

"Sure," he managed, hoped he sounded nonchalant.

She smiled at him and dropped the towel, slinking towards him. He stared at her, entranced by the sway of her hips, her heavy breasts, the soft dark thatch of hair where her thighs joined. She smirked, watching his eyes move over her, slipped into the water beside him.

"I never got a chance to thank you properly for thanking me," she said, voice like velvet. "You've gone to so much trouble for me."

Juno slid into his lap, and his hands went to her hips, hesitant. She trailed her hands over his shoulders, down his chest, trying not to shiver at how strange his skin felt beneath her fingers. He was _warm_, she realized, surprised, warm as the Empire sun in summer. She traced the strange patterns in his skin, fascinated.

"You have a lot of scars," she said slowly. "How did you get all these?"

"They're not scars." He sounded amused. "Gnarl says it's the mark of magic. I think the Cataclysm had something to do with it."

"Ugh, don't talk about that gross old troll."

"Sorry."

She moved her hands lower, gave him a look through her lashes that made his heart race. She felt his hands tighten on her hips and smiled, trailing her fingers down in increments, teasing. He felt like he'd been carved from living marble, she thought, marveling. She'd slept with gladiators who hadn't been as well built.

"Isn't this nice?" she purred. "Just the two of us." She reached down, stroking. "Wouldn't it be nice if it could always be this way?"

He was tongue tied. Juno smiled, slipped off his lap and to her knees, ducked her head under the warm waters and took his cock into her mouth. He gasped, tangling broad fingers in her hair, pushing her head down without thinking. She pulled back, startled, scratched his wrist, thrashing. He let go. She popped up out of the water with a gasp, glaring at him as she backed away.

"What the _hells_?" She snapped. "Are you trying to drown me?"

"Shit! No, I'm sorry, I didn't- I wasn't-"

She stared at him, then shook her head and smiled.

"Just...be careful, will you?" She knelt again, sliding her hands up his thighs. "You're just..._so_ much stronger than me. And _so_ much...bigger."

She took him into her mouth again, tongue tracing the tip of his cock. She heard him grit his teeth, looked up to see him resting his arms on the rough rock wall of the hot spring. She smiled, working her way lower, wrapped her hand around the base of the shaft. She heard him groan. She slid a hand from his thigh, up to cup his balls, felt him stiffen. She pulled back, smiling.

"Are you enjoying this?"

"Don't stop," he commanded, voice hard as steel.

Something in her answered immediately, and she wrapped her lips around him again. She took him as deep into her throat as she could, mouth wet and hot, hands working skillfully, employing all her arts. He came quickly, gasping, head thrown back, hands tightening on the stone so hard that it creaked. She tilted her head back and swallowed, water running down her breasts, licked her lips and gave him a sly smile.

"See what I can do for you?" she asked.

"Gods," she thought she heard him say.

"Think about it. Just you, and me, and the private quarters all to ourselves." She climbed out of the bath and wrapped the towel around herself. "I'll be waiting for your answer."

He felt dazed. He stared after her, gaping like an idiot, and then shook himself, trying to get hold of himself.

She wanted him to get rid of Kelda, which wasn't about to happen, obviously. He should explain that to her, he thought. So things were clear. He rose and dried himself off, pulled on his trousers and went to her room, trying to convince himself he had no ulterior motives at all.

The door swung open at his touch. Juno lay back on the bed, candlelight dancing over her bare skin. She beckoned to him, smiling wickedly.

"Come here," she whispered.

He went to her like an eager puppy. Juno grinned, put a slim foot against his chest as he climbed onto the bed, stopping him in his tracks. She had him eating out of her hand, she thought, gleeful.

"Let's take this slow, my knight," she purred. "We have all the time in the world."

He just looked down at her, face unreadable, brilliant eyes expressionless. She shifted, suddenly uncomfortable, wondering for the first time what he really saw when he looked at her.

"Gods, you're gorgeous."

She relaxed, preening, as he kissed the top of her foot, sliding a hand up her leg. Men had been telling her that for years, she thought, though with never quite such _reverence._ He was hers, she thought, smirking.

He spread her legs apart and hesitated, suddenly seeming almost shy.

"Do you-" he started to ask, stopped.

"Do I what?"

"I want to try something," he said slowly. "I've...read about this, but I haven't..."

She gave him a suspicious look, part of her worrying about what a Dark Lord might want to try in bed.

"What is it?"

"Just tell me if you don't like it, and I'll stop."

"What are you-"

He bent his head, and she felt his tongue teasing at her clit, tentative. She gasped, arced her hips towards him.

"Oh, oh gods. Yes, keep going."

He was a little clumsy, but he was certainly enthusiastic. She wrapped her legs over his shoulders, buried her fingers in his hair, guiding him.

"A little faster," she whispered. "Oh gods, yes, yes, just like that. Put your fingers _there,_ yes, just like that, yes, oh gods, don't stop-"

He was a quick study. She writhed beneath his touch, body burning with the heat of him. She felt his tongue exploring her, curious, teasing moans from her lips. She was used to faking, used to rough men who used her fast and paid her for the pleasure. She wasn't used to someone, well, making _love_ to her, with a strangely gentle care and delicacy.

She stopped him at last, flush and shaking. He looked up at her, concerned, suddenly seemed uncertain.

"Was that...was it not alright?" He asked.

"It was more than alright," she said breathlessly, undid his belt with the ease of long practice. "But I want you in me. Please."

He held himself above her, straddling her. She stared up at him and shivered. He was so strange, she thought- she wasn't even sure if he was entirely human. For an instant she wondered if what she was doing was wise, and then he kissed her neck with lips as hot as sun-warmed stone. She moaned, guiding him into her, arcing her hips to meet him.

He stared down at her as he fucked her, wondering what it would feel like to break her. There was a dark part of him that wanted to leave bruises on her olive skin, twist her curly hair in his fist until she whimpered and begged him to let her go. She met his eyes with a smile, trailed her hand down his stomach, reached down and did _something_ that made his mind go blank for a second. He pushed the thoughts away, holding himself carefully above her. She had called him her knight, he thought. He had been her rescuer. She wasn't afraid of him now, but what would she think of him if she could see into his head?

Juno did something else with her fingers, teasing, drawing him back to her. She trailed her nails down his back, moaning, and part of him thought of Kelda, how she'd clawed him hard enough to draw blood. He pumped into her mechanically, trying not to think. Juno came with a cry, shuddering, and he snapped back to the present. She moaned, wrapped her arms around his neck, nipped at his shoulder.

"Oh gods," she whispered. "Gods, you feel so good."

She curled her legs around his hips, and he drove into her harder. She gasped, made a small noise of pain, and he came, panting. She smiled up at him, eyes dancing.

"How was that?"

He sat back on his heels, looking down at her. She smiled and stretched.

"Well? Say something."

"You're..." he shook his head, still staring.

"I'm incredible, I know." She slid a slender foot up his thigh, smirked. "It's like we're made for each other."

"Hmm."

She frowned, sat up. He looked distracted. That had never happened before. She slid her hand between his legs, fondling him, felt him harden at her touch.

He was only a man, after all...even if he did have a certain...stamina. She hadn't met a man yet who could resist her charms.

"You're not tired yet, are you?" she asked him, teasing. "I have so many more things to show you."

"No." He ran a hand through her hair, surprised by how soft it was. "I'm not tired."

"Good." She pushed him down onto the bed, wicked. "But this time, I get to be on top."


	11. Chapter 11

Kelda woke to utter blackness, head throbbing, with a mouth that felt like it was full of sand. She sat up slowly, feeling sick.

"Oh, gods..." she muttered. "Where am I?"

She remembered the hunters, the feast, the spiral into darkness.

"Bastards," she hissed, rubbing her forehead.

They'd drugged her, and left her for dead. She felt her heart stutter as her eyes strained to see. She fought down panic, struggling to control her breathing.

If she let herself panic, she'd never get out alive. She sat still, taking stock of what she had. Bjorn had left her with her parka, and hadn't bothered to go through the pockets. She pulled out flint and steel and struck them. In the brief spark, she saw a torch lying next to her. She groped her way forward, felt her hand touch sticky pitch. She held the torch between her legs and struck the flint again until the torch blazed alight.

Kelda held the torch aloft and rose on shaky legs, gaping. She was in a vast underground ruin. Massive columns rose up on all sides, vanishing into the darkness. A huge statue lay shattered on the ground, staring accusingly down at her with one cracked eye. She walked closer to it, holding the torch aloft.

"You must be a dwarf," she said softly.

The bearded statue gave no reply. Kelda looked around.

"Right," she whispered. "Better start moving."

She gathered up the pack and set off into the ruins.

She walked for hours, passing by crumbling buildings, toppled monuments, and rusting, ancient machines of uncertain purpose. At first she marveled over everything she saw, wonder overcoming fear of her predicament. As the hours passed and the torch burned lower, however, she grew inured to the strangeness, and could only think of how much she wanted to be home.

Kelda wedged the torch into a rock and sat back on her heels, exhausted. She was suddenly aware of how thirsty she was. Her stomach growled, and she pushed herself back to her feet, grimaced.

The torch guttered, went out. She swore, digging in her pocket for her flint. It bounced out of her shaky fingers, ringing its way across the cave floor.

"Damn it!"

Kelda crouched on her hands and knees, feeling for it. She felt the edge of her hand brush against it, made a desperate grab in the dark, heard it bouncing down. She put her hand forward into empty air, pulled back abruptly.

"Shit," she whispered.

She crawled through the darkness, feeling her way carefully along the edge of the cliff. Soon her fingertips were raw and bleeding. She pressed forward, ignoring the multitude of tiny cuts in her palms, crept across a narrow bridge over the chasm, black emptiness on every side.

She was so thirsty. She swallowed thickly, mouth dry as old bone. She crawled for hours that bled into days through the caverns, hallucinatory color blooming as her eyes struggled to see.

She was bleeding, had managed to scrape herself raw going through a narrow crevice. Her head was pounding. She saw visions in the dark, heard her heart hammering in her ears.

She saw her father, limned in brilliant colors, watched him chasing after a herd of caribou, saw him change and merge into their endless flow. She blinked, and saw a hawk circling through the blackness, gold eyes drawing her in, saw herself as a child, curled up tightly, wolves dancing around her. She blinked again, saw her witch-boy, wreathed in fire. He held out a hand, drew out the brilliant line of her soul. She reached towards him, knowing she dreamed even as her hand hit stone.

_Warmth_. _Pack. Home._

She curled up around herself, felt hot tears leak down her cheeks. She was so tired. She closed her eyes, defeated.

_Home_.

She could smell straw and damp fur, a not-unpleasant animal smell. The bodies of the pack pressed in tightly on each other, whining. Amber eyes looked up at her, flashing green.

She woke with a start.

_Warmth. Pack. Home._

She felt the minds of the wolves, their cunning animal intelligence, their savage loyalty. She crawled forward, drawn by their questing thoughts.

_Warmth. Pack. Home._

She followed the scent of their psyches, tracking them, drawn by strange wild magic. She could feel them shift in their sleep, feel their heartbeat under her skin.

After an eternity, she saw light ahead. At first, she wasn't sure what she wasn't sure what she was seeing. She rose to her feet, knees popping, stumbled forward into the afternoon sun, shielding her aching eyes.

She gulped down mouthfuls of snow gratefully, cooled her raw and burning hands. At last she sat back, taking stock. She was in the hills out beyond the ice, close to the fortress. Her head was spinning, she was battered and bruised, and she was incredibly hungry, but she was alive.

She felt the mind of the pack brush her and shivered. She turned herself towards the wolves, letting their dreams guide her home.

-x-

Kelda stumbled through the portal, fell to her hands and knees as it teleported her home. Gnarl stared at her in astonishment.

"Mistress Kelda!" he cried, hobbling to her side. "What happened? Are you alright?"

"Water," she gasped. "Please. Food."

He gestured, and minions scampered away, returned with a jug of water and some bread. She gulped it down gratefully, blood dripping on the stones.

"Mistress Kelda, you're hurt!" Gnarl wrung his hands. "See, this is exactly why I said you shouldn't be out and about! It's too dangerous! Why, if the Master lost you-"

"Where is he?" Kelda asked, standing wearily. "I need to talk to him."

"He's in the private quarters, Mistress, but-"

"Good. It's very important."

She limped up the stairs.

"But, Mistress, he's busy-" Gnarl watched her go, sighed. "Well, I suppose she was going to have to find out sooner or later."

Kelda pulled herself up the stairs, wincing at the pain in her knees. She could use a bath, she thought, and then she felt like she could sleep for weeks. But first, she needed to tell the witch boy about the dwarven ruins-

She stopped short by the fountain, heard the unmistakable sounds of a woman moaning. She felt her cheeks grow hot.

"He _wouldn't_," she muttered.

She followed the sound, knowing what she would find, refusing to believe it. She stopped short in Juno's doorway, staring. A naked Juno was straddling an equally naked witch boy, head thrown back as she rode him.

"You _bastard,_" Kelda snarled, not sure which one of them she meant.

They stopped short, looking at her. Juno gave her a smile that dripped acid.

"Hello, peasant," she purred. "Did you have a nice little hunting trip?"

"I'll fucking kill you," Kelda said, low and deadly.

"Try it, slave girl." She shifted her hips, utterly shameless. "He's never had anyone quite like me, and now that he's had a taste-."

"Enough."

Juno started. The Overlord picked her up bodily and set her aside, sitting up. Kelda glared at him, furious.

"How _could_ you?" she snapped. "After what we did, how-"

She was angry, and she was crying now. He stared at her, helpless.

"I didn't mean to make you-"

"What's she got that I haven't got?" Kelda cried.

"A sense of style, for one," Juno purred.

"Is she better in bed than me, or what?"

Juno smiled. He looked from one to the other. He didn't know much about women, but he knew enough to know that that question was a trap.

"Kelda," he said placatingly. "Please, why are you so upset? I don't understand-" He stopped, rose, touched her arm. "You're bleeding. What happened?"

She yanked her arm away, sniffling.

"Don't touch me."

"What happened?" he asked again. "Are you alright?"

Her eyes flashed.

"No, of course I'm not bloody alright, you stupid son of a bitch," she snarled.

"Why are you so angry?"

"Are you _stupid_?" She glared at him, swept a contemptuous gaze over him, over Juno. "Fine. Do what you want. If fucking that painted-up trollop makes you happy, fine. You can go straight to the hells together."

"Kelda-"

She swiped a hand across her eyes, gave him a look that could strip paint, furious.

"I'm going out _hunting_," she spat. "And I don't plan to come back. Have the minions bring my things back to Nordberg."

"Kelda, wait-"

She turned on her heel, staggered, stormed out of the bedroom. He sighed, pulling on his trousers. Juno grabbed his arm, slid her hands down his chest.

"Do you really have to go so soon?" she purred. "We were just getting started."

"We can pick up where we left off."

She pouted, wrapped her arms around him as he tried to pull on his tunic.

"Don't go," she whispered. "Please."

"I have to, it's Kelda, and she's hurt, and she's angry, and-"

"Oh, who needs that stupid little peasant, anyways?"

He stared down at her, suddenly chilly.

"I do," he snapped.

He pulled his arm away, strode out of the room. Juno swore, watching him go. She'd been so certain she'd had him entirely in the palm of her hand. She'd been so close, she thought, to having him under her thumb, and then that bloody peasant girl had blundered in and ruined things.

Well, then, she would simply have to try harder. Juno smiled, laying back against the silk sheets. In general, she didn't like to have to exert herself, but this was one effort she would be more than happy to make.

-x-

Gnarl hurried after her as she stormed to the portal, trembling with fury, bow slung over her back.

"Mistress Kelda!" she heard him call through the rush of blood in her ears. "Mistress, please, wait-"

She glared at him, furious, holding the knife on her belt in a way that made him reconsider. He shrank back despite himself.

"Mistress Kelda, if you'd only stop for a moment and think about this-"

He stopped short, astonished. The wolves were streaming into the throne room. He stared as they stepped tentatively onto the portal, two by two, whining, vanishing. Not even his Master had been able to convince the wolves to do _that_. An ancient wolf nudged Kelda's knee, whimpering. She stroked its ears, eyes distant, almost as if she was listening to something.

"Kelda, wait!" he heard the Overlord call.

She looked over her shoulder, green eyes chilly, stepped onto the portal and vanished. The Dark Lord stopped short.

"Damn it, Kelda."

The old wolf slunk to his side, whining. He scratched at its head absently.

"Where's she gone, Gnarl?"

"I'm not exactly sure, sire. Let me see..." He reached up, stroked the crystal, and it let out a high, sharp note. "Ah. She came out just outside Nordberg, sire."

"I'll be back."

"Sire, it may be wise to let her cool down a little-"

The Overlord ignored him, striding through the portal. Gnarl shook his head. It had been so long, he'd almost forgotten how much trouble Mistresses could be. He settled back with a sigh to watch the sparks fly.

-x-

The hunters hadn't bothered to move their camp.

Kelda strode into their midst, flanked by wolves.

"Where's Sven?" she snarled.

They scattered, startled, grabbing for spears and bows. The wolves crouched, growling.

"Kelda?" Sven gaped at her, sitting by the fire. "You're alive?"

"You should have killed me when you had me helpless," Kelda snapped, drew her bow. "You bastards. I thought we were _friends_."

Sven held up his hands.

"Kelda...please. We didn't want to do it, but we had to, else that awful Demon Lord might have found us out."

"So you tried to kill me over some old ruins? Glad to know I'm worth that much to you."

"No, Kelda, not the ruins. It's what's in the ruins. Gold."

"So you left me for dead over some shiny metal? I thought you were a hunter, Sven, not some damned Imperial."

"It's not the gold, it's what it can buy!" He came closer, pleading. "We've hardly had a chance to bring any of it up, but there's enough down there to buy armor, weapons, everything the North needs. With that kind of money, we could afford to fight the Demon Lord, the Empire, anyone!"

"Unless they come in and crush you first."

"Which is why we need to keep it a secret."

"Don't come any closer."

Sven spread his arms.

"Kelda, you can't fight us all."

"With my wolves, I can," she hissed.

He looked around. She saw the flickers of fear on the faces of the hunters, saw it change slowly to hate.

"_Witch_," she heard one of them hiss.

The wolves growled, forming up around her. She grinned, let her arrow fly, not caring if they killed her, wanting nothing more than to fight, to hit something until she couldn't think anymore. Sven gasped and toppled back, her arrow jutting from his chest. She heard the hunters roar, heard the twang of a bowstring, felt white hot pain lance into her shoulder, into her ribs, saw her blood burst red across the snow.

"_KNEEL,"_ a deep voice snarled.

The hunters froze as one, fell rigidly to their knees in the snow. Kelda struggled to stay upright, squinting.

"Witch Boy?" she asked, confused.

She was angry at him, she thought, couldn't remember why. She felt very cold.

He strode towards her, felt his heart lurch as he saw bright blood on the ice, saw her fall to her hands and knees. Something snapped inside him. He felt the living minds of the hunters pulsing, tethered to his will. He reached out and _pulled_, felt their souls flow into him, the sudden shriek of a dozen minds snuffed out in a blink. Their bodies fell, twisted, drained. He walked past them without a second thought, went to the side of his Mistress, cradling her.

"Kelda?"

She stirred, gave him a bleary smile.

"Witch Boy?" she asked again. "I...I'm tired."

"It's alright," he said, struggling to keep his voice even. "Come on, I'm taking you home."

"_Home_," she whispered, her eyes drifting closed.

He carried her to the portal as quickly as he could without hurting her, keeping a close eye on the rise and fall of her chest. He held her close as it swept them below.

"Sire!" Gnarl stopped short, staring at Kelda. "Oh, that's not good. Not good at all."

"Get Mort up here," the Overlord snapped.

Gnarl looked stricken.

"I- yes, yes, of course, sire."

He carried her upstairs, laid her carefully on the bed. She gasped, whimpering, hand going to the arrow in her shoulder.

"I need water!" He shouted. "Bandages!"

The minions scrambled, frantic, tripping over each other in their haste to bring him what he'd asked for. He felt carefully around the shaft of the arrows, wincing. They were in deep.

"My Lord," a voice croaked wetly.

He turned, trying to keep his hands from shaking. Mort stood, hooded, leaning on his scythe, staring at Kelda.

"Can you see?" the Overlord asked him. "Will she be alright?"

Mort frowned, moving closer, cocked his head. He ran a hand over Kelda's forehead, along the bridge of her nose, touched her lips. His hands hovered for a moment, and he looked briefly startled.

"Will she be alright, Mort?"

"Difficult to tell, my Lord," the necromancer croaked. "The smell of death is on her, but she is not yet through its door."

"Well, then, help me! Hold her spirit here while I work."

Mort nodded once, sharply, spread webbed fingers, dark fire flickering in his massive eyes.

"I will do my best, my Lord."

"This is going to hurt," the witch boy whispered to Kelda. "I'm sorry."

He cut the arrows from her flesh as quickly as he could, trying to ignore her muffled gasps. The arrow in her ribs had missed her lung, and the wounds smelled clean. He cleaned the wounds and stitched her up, working swiftly. Gnarl hovered at his elbow, staring down at her, looking uncharacteristically worried.

"You see, sire, this is why you should keep your Mistresses locked away in a tower somewhere!"

"Not helping, Gnarl."

"It worked for Overlords before you, sire! Perhaps after this you'll consider listening to me, for once."

"Really not helping."

He finished stitching the wounds, wiped a smear of red blood from his cheek, looking down at his fingers. Mort lowered his hands.

"Her spirits are safe, my Lord. They linger in her body." He bowed. "I will take my leave of you, sire." He glanced at the old minion overseer. "Come and see me when you've finished, Gnarl."

The Overlord waved him away, distracted. Gnarl hobbled to the head of the bed and sighed.

"Mistresses! Sometimes I think they're more trouble than they're worth."

The witch boy stroked Kelda's red hair, smoothing it away from her brow. Gnarl watched him, more than a little worried. He'd known Overlords who'd used women (and sometimes, men) in a way even he'd considered cruel, casting them aside without a second's thought. The boy, though...the boy was like his father. He cared for his Mistresses, in a way that made him far too vulnerable.

"My Lord," he said gently. "You can't do anything else for her. She just needs rest."

"I'll stay here," the boy said, stubborn. "You can go."

Gnarl sighed. The lad was in love, whether or not he knew it yet. He had lived long enough to know it was futile to argue.

"Very well, Sire. Call me if you need me."

-x-

Kelda woke with a start. She sat up, disoriented, and immediately regretted it. She groaned, clutching at her shoulder. She remembered being shot, the sudden blinding pain, and then a long tumble into black weightlessness.

Someone had patched her up quite decently. She snuck a glance under her bandages and winced. Everything hurt, and every motion felt like being shot all over again.

The witch boy stirred, sat up from a pile of furs on the floor.

"Kelda," he breathed. He rose, sat on the edge of the bed, seemed not to know what to do with his hands. "Are you alright?"

"I've been shot up with arrows, and feel like I've been through hell and back. No, of course I'm not alright."

She saw the look on his face, and relented.

"I'm feeling better than I was, though."

"What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't," she admitted. "I was just so angry at you, and I just..."

"Were you...were you angry because Juno and I..."

"Because you fucked her? Yes, of course I'm angry!"

"But _why_?" He sounded genuinely confused. "It's just sex, Kelda."

She stared at him, incredulous. He was serious, she realized. He actually _hadn't _understood why she was mad at him. The gulf between them suddenly seemed very wide indeed.

"Juno is a manipulative viper," she said, very slowly, trying to get through to him. "She's an absolute twat who only cares about herself, and she's only interested in what you can give her."

"I know that," he said patiently.

She gaped at him, at a loss.

"Then why do you keep her around?" she asked at last.

"Because she's pretty, and she says nice things, and, I don't know, I just like her being here!"

"She's using you!"

"I don't care!"

"What's wrong with you? Why the hell not?"

"Because it's _just sex_!" he snapped, exasperated. "It doesn't mean anything!"

Her face twisted, and she looked away. He realized his error with a wince, took her hand. Women were so _complicated_.

"I didn't mean...it's not 'just sex' with you," he said softly.

"Then what is it?" she asked. "What am I to you, anyways, witch boy?"

He didn't know how to answer. She glared up at him, green eyes bright.

"Am I not enough for you?" she demanded.

"No, it's...it's not that." He fumbled, trying to think of a way to explain. "You know how, sometimes you're hungry for seal, and sometimes instead you want caribou?"

"Did you just compare me to _food_?"

"Ah...no?" he said uncertainly. "You're angry again, aren't you?"

She rolled over on her side, ignoring him. His shoulders slumped, and he reached out and stroked her hair, gentle.

"Get some rest," he said. "I'll talk to you about it later. I need to work." He traced the nape of her neck. "And please...don't kill Juno while I'm gone."


	12. Chapter 12

Rose rubbed at her greying temples, weary, maps and papers scattered in messy heaps across her desk. The Sentinel behind her put a heavy hand on her shoulder. She started, turned and smiled up at it.

"I'm fine," she told it. "I'm just a little tired."

It tilted its faceless head, studying her. She shivered a little. The Sentinels sometimes frightened her, for all that she had helped to create them. It straightened abruptly, looking towards the hall.

"Good evening, my lady wife."

Marius gave her a perfunctory peck on the cheek, peered over her shoulder.

"You're still working?"

"Always," she said.

"It's a tricky business, running an Empire."

"How's Florian holding up?"

Marius winced.

"I do wish you wouldn't call him that. The Emperor is doing well. He is confident that we can repel this barbarian incursion."

"He's not the Emperor," Rose said tiredly. "He's a figurehead."

"But a figurehead we need. And you have to admit, he does make a striking one."

"Have you seen these reports?" Rose asked him, changing the subject. "The Sentinels have been close enough to the barbarian lord to get a feel for his magic. He's extremely powerful. We need to deal with him before he makes things too...untidy."

"What would you advise?"

"If he's anything like the Overlord-" She felt her heart lurch at the name, pushed the old grief below with the ease of long practice. "-Before him, he'll be searching for the hives of those creatures. We have the Blue Hive. You could use that to lure him in."

He stared at her, considering.

"You seem to know an awful lot about this barbarian. You keep calling him the 'Overlord', for one."

"You've read pre-Cataclysm history, haven't you?" she asked him. "There has always been an Overlord, just as there have always been Heroes to defeat him. My own father helped to destroy the Second Overlord."

"Ah, so it's something in the blood, is it?"

"You could say that. My spies have been keeping an eye on this particular Overlord for years. I'm more than happy to help you and Solarius destroy him."

After the news had come that her son had died in Nordberg, drowned beneath the cold sea, something inside her had also died. The only thing that had given her purpose had been her work with the Empire. She had buried herself in her work, feeling nothing. And then, a few years ago, her network had picked up vague rumors of demons in the North, of a tall figure in black, hunting with the wolves. She had finally felt something then- a cold, white rage.

Gnarl had always told her that evil would find a way. She'd suspected that there was some sort of symbiotic relationship between a Master and his minions. Gnarl had certainly been desperate enough to keep her and her unborn child in the Tower. She knew they needed a Master, but somehow their acquisition of a new Overlord felt strangely like a betrayal. She didn't know where they'd found this particular brute, and she didn't much care. She only knew that she wanted to bring him down.

"Rose, are you alright?" Marius asked her.

She put a hand to her head, realized she'd been grinding her teeth.

"Yes. I'm...I'm just a little overworked. Go on to bed, I'll join you after I've finished up here."

"Who isn't overworked, these days?" He pecked her cheek again, left her alone.

She sighed, looking down at her papers. Truth be told, she would rather sleep at her desk than join him in their loveless bed, but if she didn't, the slaves might talk.

"This will all be over soon," she told the Sentinel. "Everything will finally be in order. And then it will all be worth it."

It only stared at her, faceless and silent. She squared her shoulders and went to join her husband.

-x-

Kelda made her limping way into the mess hall, trying not to grimace. She'd woken from a restless sleep to realize she was ravenous- the minions told her she'd slept through several straight days. She was still angry, a dull ache that twinged and throbbed along with her wounds.

Gnarl waggled his ears at her, looking pleased. Juno sat a little ways down the table, looking stricken.

"Mistress Kelda! I'm so glad to see you looking well again. How are you feeling?"

"Less like a pincushion."

"Come, eat, you need to keep up your strength!"

He gestured, and one of the minions pulled out her chair for her. She sat, oddly touched by the courtesy. Had Gnarl been worried about her?

Juno was staring at her, looking at her bandages. Kelda met her eyes, gaze hard. Juno swallowed and looked away, for once not saying anything.

"For you, Mistress!" Quaver declared proudly.

Gnarl struck the platter out of his hands.

"Quaver, what is this slop?" he snarled. "The Mistress deserves better, don't you think? Only the choicest cuts for our Lady."

"That's really not necessary," Kelda stammered.

"Don't hit!" Quaver shrieked, scampering back. "I'm sorry, Mistress! I'll be right back!"

"What was that all about?" Kelda demanded. "I'm bloody hungry!"

"You should have something better than the sludge he serves the rest of us," Gnarl said fondly.

Juno looked down at her plate, looked back and forth between them, mournful.

"Can we get you anything, Mistress?" Gnarl asked Kelda eagerly. "Cushions? Something to drink? Would you like a minion to serve as your footstool?"

"What?" she asked, bewildered, and more than a little amused. He was being so very solicitous, it was quite unlike him. "No, Gnarl, please, stop worrying about me. I'm fine now."

"Well, if you should need anything, Mistress, please, just ask."

"I could use some new silks!" Juno said.

Gnarl ignored her as the crystal he carried let out a discordant note.

"Let's see what the Master's up to, shall we?"

He gestured, and an image flowed from the crystal, hung suspended in space above them, limned in blue lightning. He settled back, grinning.

"Nothing quite like dinner and a show. The Master has found the blues, Mistresses! It looks like he has the Empire running scared! Ha! Look at them go!"

Empire soldiers were staggering into an marble-columned building with the hive.

"That's the palace," Juno observed. "I wonder why they're taking it there?"

The witch boy followed them at a fast clip, minions boiling eagerly around his legs.

"That's Solarius," Juno said slowly.

"Good!" Gnarl cried. "Strike him down, Master, and-"

Everything shuddered suddenly, and the picture vanished. It flickered once, briefly, and Kelda saw her witch boy, on his hands and knees, before it was gone. She stood, knocking her chair back. Her wounds screamed at her, but she ignored them, her heart hammering.

"Gnarl, what happened?"

He was working on the crystal, spinning golden threads in the air above him, clawed hands flitting frantically.

"I don't know, Mistress!" he said. "They must have activated the anti-magic shield!"

"Is he okay? Won't that hurt him?"

"I don't know, Mistress!" he snapped again. "Hang on, let me work."

She heard a squeal, smelled something burning, as one of the golden threads snapped loose, whipping through a pair of minions. Gnarl swore, catching it in his claws.

"What should we do with it?" she heard someone ask, voice refracting weirdly through the crystal.

"Take him to the Arena," She heard Marius say, his voice unmistakable in its smugness. "Let him see the error of his ways."

The golden threads flailed, and Juno ducked with a squeak. Gnarl spared them a glance.

"You'd better get out of here, Mistresses. I wouldn't want you getting hurt, this thing can get a little unpredictable when it goes haywire." He gave the crystal a punishing thump.

"Oh, dear, the Arena." Juno yawned and rose. "I'm going to go pack my things, just in case."

"You bitch!" Kelda snapped, furious. "Don't you care?"

Juno shrugged.

"Sure, I care. I care about being on the winning side, sweetheart."

She swayed away, unconcerned. Kelda glared at her retreating back, turned back to Gnarl, feeling helpless.

"We have to help him! Where's the closest portal to the Arena?"

He stopped what he was doing, gave her a grave look.

"Mistress Kelda, we can't get through the anti-magic shield, even if we wanted to."

"Fine, then take me to a portal outside the city, I don't care!"

"It's too dangerous!" He was staring at her, protective. "We can't let anything happen to you, Mistress, you're wounded, and even you can't face the Empire alone!"

"I'll bring my wolves," Kelda snapped. "The minions!"

"We can't win without him," Gnarl said grimly.

"But we can't just leave him there! I have to help him!"

He sighed.

"Go bother Grubby. Get him to work on finding a way to get a portal through to the city. Kick him around a bit, it might make him work faster."

She nodded, raced into the depths of the fortress without a second thought.

Florian stared down at the fallen barbarian lord, smirking beneath the mask.

"I hate to say it, but you were right, Marius. Dumb bastard charged in after the hive without a second thought. Great idea, by the way."

Marius preened like some kind of mangy shore bird.

"Thank you, my lord."

The barbarian groaned faintly. He was a massive brute. Beneath his dark armor, he wore skins and teeth. Florian felt his lip curl. Why had the gods seen fit to give this uncultured savage such a rare grasp of magic, when they'd given him nothing at all? He kicked the fallen lord, petulant. The barbarian stirred, and Florian started back hastily, almost tripping over Marius.

"Don't worry, my lord. The anti-magic shield will keep him pinned down. He can't hurt you.

"I know that!" Florian snapped, looked around, hoping no one else had seen his undignified scramble.

He stared down at the barbarian, fascinated. Gold eyes opened a fraction beneath the black helm, closed as the barbarian lord shuddered.

"Do you think it hurts?" Florian asked.

"The shield, my lord? I think it does hurt him, yes."

"Good." Florian crouched, looking down at the Demon Lord. Up close, he could see that his skin was covered in strange whirling blue and white tattoos-

He stopped, leaned closer. No, not tattoos. The barbarian's skin was a strange, unhealthy-looking blue grey.

"Could it be?" he wondered aloud.

"My lord?"

Rose had told them that she had lost her kid, her face twisting, her eyes full of tears. He'd assumed that the little brat had finally gotten himself into a tangle with something he couldn't handle. They'd all told her how very sorry indeed they were for her loss, had secretly breathed a sigh of relief that her wild child was the gods' problem instead of theirs.

Rose had also been the Mistress of an Overlord. She was a cunning, consumate liar, and she was nothing if not resourceful.

He slipped his mask off, ignoring Marius' protests, pulled off the helmet. A familiar riot of black hair spilled across the tile. He pulled down the wrappings around the barbarian's face, saw the delicate patterns etched across high cheekbones.

"Well, well, well," he chuckled. "Welcome back, brat."

"You _know_ him?" Marius asked, startled.

Florian rose, smirking, wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"Marius...I'm guessing that your lady wife hasn't been entirely honest with you."

"What do you mean?"

"Let me tell you a little story about a very wicked boy, a very naughty girl, and all the naughty, wicked things they did together..."

-x-

"My lady wife," Marius said, offered her his arm, formal.

Rose pushed back from her desk and took it, smiling.

"Everything is ready, then?"

"Yes, my darling. The barbarian is caged, waiting for the arena." He smiled, proud. "He's drawn quite a crowd. It should be a good show. We've let him keep his weapon and his armor. Solarius and I have even decided to let him use his magic, so we can show the people the true folly of it."

"Magic?" Rose hesitated. "Marius, are you sure that's wise?"

"Everything is under control, don't worry your pretty head."

He patted her hand, and she resisted the urge to slap him. Those urges were getting more and more frequent these days.

"Come, my wife. Let us watch the fall of the Demon Lord."

Rose took her seat beside him in the sun-warmed Arena, gazing out over the throng. There were thousands of Empire citizens, packed into the seats, standing in the aisles, craning their necks to see. Sentinels stood atop the Arena walls, faceless hoods moving slowly back and forth, ever watchful. Rose folded her hands in her lap, smiling grimly. As a rule, she took no joy in watching the one-sided battles in the Arena, but this was one time she would be happy to see bloodshed. Florian stood beside her, wearing his golden mask and opulent robes, staring regally down at the sands.

Marius was speaking, now, stirring the crowd into a frenzy. The gate rumbled open, and the Demon Lord of Nordberg limped through. Rose smiled, hard, leaned forward to get a better look at the man who had dared to take her lover's title.

He was tall, wore a familiar black helmet, held a vast dark axe- and his skin-

Rose caught her breath, feeling like she'd been punched in the gut.

His skin was a familiar grey-blue, covered with strange, raised spirals. She'd held that skin against her own, traced the patterns on his face, spent hours looking into those wide gold eyes.

_Thorn!_

It wasn't possible, she thought. It couldn't be, the Legionnaires had said the demon lad from Nordberg had drowned. She'd locked her heart away after that, made it into a stone. She felt her heart lurch painfully back to life, doubled over in her seat. Marius, still speechifying, didn't even seem to notice her distress.

_Thorn!_ She thought again. _Oh gods, oh gods, it's been him this whole time!_

She stood, trembling, feeling like she would be sick.

"I need to go," she whispered.

Marius smiled at her.

"So soon, my lady wife? Whatever for? The games have just begun."

"I don't feel well."

"Oh, but believe me, you'll want to see this."

Her son was prowling the edges of the Arena, testing its confines.

"Ha! He doesn't even know where the Arena starts, and where it ends!" Marius gestured. "Send in the first round. Let everyone see what happens to bad slaves."

"Please, Marius, I think it's the sun. I need to go lie down."

He ignored her, focused on the games.

"This is the end for you, witch boy!" she heard him shout. He turned, and looked her straight in the eyes.. "Oh, yes. I know _all_ about you."

She turned, suddenly frightened. A trio of guards stood in the door to the Imperial suite, eyeing her coldly.

"Oh," she said faintly.

"Sit down, Rose." Marius snapped.

She sat, unable to watch. How had he found her out? His hand tightened on her shoulder.

"Look, Rose," he snapped. "I want you to see this."

She looked up, eyes watering, as a unicorn stabbed her son in the thigh, heard him cry out, saw him roll aside.

"Why are you doing this?" Rose asked him.

His grip on her shoulder tightened. She winced.

"Marius...darling...you're hurting me."

"Why didn't you _tell_ me?" he demanded.

"I didn't know how, my love, I'm...I'm so sorry."

"Don't call me that, you _harlot_. I took you in when you were a refugee, you and your _bastard_, and you had the absolute gall to tell me your 'husband' perished in the Cataclysm. And now Solarius tells me that you were the Overlord's _mistress!_ No wonder you knew so much about this barbarian!"

"Marius, please. I didn't know he- I didn't know he was my son! I thought he'd been killed, or-"

He gave her a cold smile.

"Well, you won't have long to wait for that, Rose."

She looked down, felt her heart stop for an instant. A Gargantuan was in the ring with her son.

"No," she whispered. "Please, stop this. He's my _son_, Marius. Please, I'll do anything-"

"Really, this all explains so much," Marius snapped. "What a fool I've been! You never loved me."

"Darling, please, just let me explain-"

He turned away from her to address the crowd. She shivered, turned to Florian.

"Please," she whispered. "Please, don't do this. I _trusted_ you."

The golden mask stared back at her, regal and haughty. She felt rage kindling, blooming through her veins.

"I'll tell them," she hissed. "I'll tell them all. Don't think I won't."

The Emperor and Marius exchanged a look. Marius gestured to the guards.

"I'm afraid my poor lady wife is having a touch of hysterics. Women, you know. Take her back to my villa, and see that she stays there."

A guard took her by the elbow, and she jerked her arm away.

"I can see myself out, thank you. I don't need to be carried."

She stood, legs shaking, met her husband's eyes.

"Please," she begged him, one last time. "We can stop this, you and I. There has to be some way to make a truce with him-"

"The Empire will make no truce with your bastard son," he snapped. "Get out of my sight."

She followed the guards out, trembling, leaned against the wall. One of the guards put a hand on her shoulder.

"Lady Rose, are you alright?"

She stabbed him in the throat. He gagged, clutching at his neck, poison spreading purple tendrils through his skin. She moved as fast as she was able, stabbed the guard in front of her in the back. He toppled, her dagger tangled in his cloak.

The third guard gaped at her, drew his sword. She pulled her dagger out of the other guard's body, watching him warily. He was young, and strong, and she no longer had the advantage of surprise.

"I don't want to have to hurt you, Lady Rose," he said. "But I will if I have to."

She sent her will out, beckoning to the Sentinels. They glided from their posts on the walls, drifting towards her. She looked up at the Imperial box. Marius and Florian didn't seem to notice, intent on the battle below.

"Lady Rose, drop the knife and come with me."

She dropped the dagger, raising her hands as the Sentinels streamed into the depths of the Arena, surrounding her.

_Help me_, she thought.

They gathered around her, touching her, staffs humming. The guard's eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to yell. She reached out and sucked the breath from his lungs, buoyed up by the Sentinel's power. He fell to his knees, clawing at his throat, fell flat on his face and went still. Rose took a deep breath, her own hand going to her throat.

"Get rid of these," she said, pointing at the bodies.

The Sentinels _shifted_ something, a sidestep in space and time, and the bodies vanished. Rose retrieved her dagger.

"That's better."

She could see her son through the crush of the crowd, whirling around the Gargantuan. Rose watched the battle raging, clutching at the Sentinel's corpse-cold hand. He was proving quick, and he was proving clever, but he was flagging.

"I did this," she whispered. "He's in there because of _me_."

She heard the gargantuan bellow, crashing into the wall of the arena, its cry cut short as the Overlord beheaded it, blood washing dark over the sands of the Arena. Her son sank to his knees, leaning on his axe.

She had to help him. She stared at him, thinking furiously, then swept down the hall and beckoned to a guard, imperious, her heart hammering. She knew Marius, she thought, and he would be far too proud to let it be publicly known that his wife had borne a bastard barbarian son.

The guard trotted over, saluting, darted a nervous glance at the Sentinels.

"Yes, my lady?" he asked. "Do you need something?"

"My husband told me that the Emperor just had a brilliant idea to make things a bit more interesting," she said, relief making her knees weak. "What have we given the yeti to throw this time?"

The guard shrugged.

"Just some big rocks and bits of masonry, ma'am."

"Oh, no, no, no, that simply not will do. Marius wants this barbarian to be utterly annihilated, is that clear? Give the yeti fire-barrels."

"Fire-barrels, ma'am?" he looked uncertain. "Are you sure that's safe?"

"Of course it's not safe, you fool, that's the point!" She snapped, trying to channel Marius. She gave him a haughty look. "Are you questioning my husband, the Voice of the Emperor?"

"No, not at all!" he cried. "I'll get that ready right away, ma'am...although, begging your pardon, I don't think he's going to last that long."

The gates all shrieked opened, and she watched as the Empire threw its might against her son. She sagged back against a Sentinel, grabbing its fragile arm.

"Ma'am?" The soldier was peering at her strangely. "Are you alright?"

"Just do what I asked!" she snapped.

He hurried to obey.

"Help me," she whispered again, drawing on the power of her Sentinels.

The unicorns were rearing, razor horns scything. She touched their minds, felt the surging strength of their dumb animal magic, threw the power of the Sentinels against it. The Sentinels surrounded her, silent, shielding her from prying eyes. One of the unicorns stumbled, startled by her faint brush against its psyche, and the minions were on it in an instant, tearing it apart. She staggered, exhausted, and the Sentinels caught her, holding her upright. All she could do now was watch.

Her son was still standing, ragged, leaking black blood from a myriad of cuts. She remembered, irrationally, the first time she'd seen that blood, how she'd cleaned a scrape on his knee as he stared steadfastly down at her hands, trying not to whimper.

She heard the creak of gears, and the yeti rose into the Arena, blinking its single eye in angry bewilderment. A stack of fire-barrels rested at its feet. Rose caught her breath, hoping her son would be smart enough to realize what to do. He was _her_ son, she thought, trying to reassure herself. He would understand.

She saw him look at the yeti, the barrels, the door behind him. She smiled, standing straighter. He _had_ understood. The yeti hurled a barrel, snarling, and he staggered aside, just barely managing to get out of the way as the door shattered in an explosion of flame behind him. She watched as he and his minions tore into the crowd, the little creatures hurling themselves against the pillars of the Imperial Lodge, tearing it down. She watched Marius and Florian flee, sneering.

_Cowards._

Magic crackled through the air, and a portal rose in the center of the Arena. Rose sagged in relief, watched her son stumble to it, the Hive in tow.

He was alive, she thought, hurrying into the depths of the city. Her son was alive...and that changed everything.


	13. Chapter 13 (NSFW)

The air crackled, and stone grated and spun. The Overlord landed hard with a clash of armor, went to one knee, leaning on his axe. Everything ached, and his ears were still ringing with the sounds of trumpets.

"Witch boy!" Kelda cried, running to his side.

He put an arm around her, grateful, leaning against her. Juno hurried down the stairs, hair in artful disarray.

"We were so worried about you!" she sobbed, hurled herself into his side. "I was so scared they were going to kill you. It was just terrible!"

He caught her with a grunt of pain, patted her back uncertainly.

"There, there?" he said after a second. "I'm alright."

Kelda gave her a dirty look.

_You absolute bitch_, she thought disdainfully. _You spent the whole time painting your nails!_

Juno pulled back, making a face.

"Oh, what's that all over your hands?"

"Oh. A bit of blood, sorry. Most of it's not mine."

Juno quailed, twisting to look at the back of her toga.

"This was one of my favorite dresses," she said sadly.

"I'm not surprised they couldn't keep you caged up," Kelda said. "I am, however, surprised that they were stupid enough to even try. Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

She could feel him leaning on her, heard him gritting his teeth with every step.

"We're quite the pair right now, aren't we?" Kelda asked. "Between the two of us, we almost have one whole person."

She helped him pull off the armor, stripping off his bloody clothes, wincing at the bruises that mottled the skin beneath the metal, the black blood leaking slowly from ugly-looking wounds.

"Gods," she muttered. "That doesn't look good."

"It doesn't feel so good, either."

"What is this?" She asked, poking gingerly at what looked like a bone embedded in his thigh.

"Oh." He looked down. "Unicorn horn."

"Brace yourself." She pulled it out with a jerk, pressed clean rags against the wound.

He grunted, teeth grinding. Her hands were shaking, she realized. She tried to thread a needle, tried again, and it fell from nerveless fingers into her lap.

"Damn it."

Her vision was blurring. He took the needle from her and threaded it, stitching up the gash. Kelda wiped her eyes, sniffed.

"Damn it," she said again. "I was so bloody scared, you bastard. What were you _thinking_, just running in there after the hive like that? What were you-"

The needle snapped between his fingers.

"I _know_," he snarled. "I _know_, alright? It was bloody stupid, I blundered right into their trap like the idiot barbarian they think I am." He rose, pacing, black blood dripping down his thigh. "_Stupid_."

"I- I didn't mean it like that." Kelda rose, startled, caught his arm. "I didn't mean- look- I just-" She sighed, defeated. "I just don't know what I'd do if I lost you again, alright?"

"It will take a lot more than that to bring me down, Kelda." He clenched his fists, furious. "I'm going to crush them for what they tried to do to me."

"I just mean, without you, I-"

"I'll watch their city crumble, and I'll-"

"Gods _damn_ it, witch boy, I'm trying to tell you that I love you!"

Kelda clapped her hands over her mouth, startled. The Overlord stopped short, turned and stared at her.

"Oops," she said weakly. "I didn't mean that."

"Yes, you did," he said slowly.

"Fine." She sat down on the edge of the bed, rubbing her arms. "You're right. I bloody love you, alright?"

"Oh," he said, sitting next to her.

"Oh?" She glared up at him. "Is that all you can say after I've told you, is 'oh'?"

He leaned over and caught her chin in a broad hand, tilted her face up and kissed her, hard enough to wind her. She looked up at him, dazed.

"Oh," she said again.

"When they had me in their damned Arena, when I was fighting for my life...there was a part of me that could only think of coming back to you." His thumb traced her lips, thoughtful. "I can't explain it."

"Of course you can't, witch boy." Kelda nipped at the ball of his thumb. "Nobody can."

He made a low noise in his throat, pushed her back against the bed, gentle for once. He raised her skirts above her hips, slid broad fingers into her, slowly, testing. She smiled, flushing, drew his hips down to hers.

He was gentle with her this time, careful not to hurt her, mindful of her wounds. Still, she gasped as he entered her, pushed her hands against his chest to stop him.

"Are you alright?"

"Let me get on top this time," she said. "Please?"

He wrapped his arms around her, rolled over onto his back. She mounted him, nails digging into his hips. He was so _big_ compared to her, her legs could hardly straddle his. She pulled her dress over her head, almost tearing it in her hurry to get free of it.

"Gods," she whispered. "Why haven't we tried this before?"

He stared up at her, full of some strange sweet ache he was afraid to examine too closely. She threw her head back as she fucked him, auburn hair gleaming in the lava light, lips parted, scars white against her skin. Her hips, her strong thighs were working as she pushed herself against him, muscles taut against his fingers.

He moved a hand up over her hips, slid a hand down her tight stomach and stroked her clit, the motions deft and self-assured. Kelda gasped. Where had he learned to do _that?_

She supposed Juno was good for something, after all.

"Gods, I love you, you son of a bitch," she growled.

He took his hands away, staring up at her. She smacked his chest.

"What? Did I tell you to stop?"

"Ow!"

"Oh, sorry, sorry!" She leaned over him, face inches from his, wiggled her hips. "Really, though. What's wrong?"

Luminous eyes met hers. He looked strangely troubled. He lifted a hand, brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, unusually tender.

"I think I love you," he said softly. "There's almost nothing that frightens me, but loving you...that scares me."

"Am I really all that bad?" she asked jokingly.

"I'm afraid that, if I let myself love you, and I lose you..."

"Oh, witch boy." She touched his forehead with her own. "Don't be daft. You're not going to lose me."

"But what if something happens, and I-"

"Life happens, witch boy. Losing people you love is a part of living. You grieve, and it's sad, and it hurts, but you keep going." She kissed the bridge of his nose. "That said, I don't intend to leave you anytime soon."

"Gods damn it." He caught her chin in a broad hand, pulled her down to kiss her. "Fine. You bitch. I love you."

Her heart leaped. She returned the kiss with all the passion, all the fury she'd been holding back, heedless of her wounds. He reached up and slid a finger under her choker, pulled her down against him with a cruel smile.

"I like the way you've kept the collar on," he said, voice rough.

"It's not a collar!" she snapped, cheeks flushing. "It's a necklace. Arsehole."

She felt his hand tighten on her ass.

"Is that any way to talk to your Master?"

"I don't have any Master," she said blithely. "I have a witch boy, who I love despite the fact that he's an absolute bastard."

"Oh, is that so?"

He twisted the hand that held the choker, and she gasped, grinding herself against him, reveling in the complete loss of control. She felt him pouring all his rage, his helplessness, his humiliation at being a spectacle in the Arena into her, teeth bared. She pushed him deeper into her, gasping for breath, feeding on his fury, his savagery as he filled her. They came almost simultaneously for once, blood and sweat mingling.

"I love you," he said roughly, slowly, trying out the sound of the words.

She met his gold eyes with her own sea-green gaze and only kissed him in response.

-x-

They spent the next few days mostly in bed, ostensibly recovering. She told him about the hunters, about the wolves, about the Dwarven ruins, saw his eyes kindle when she described the strange war machines she'd seen. His wounds healed quickly, even shockingly fast. When she asked him about it he just shrugged.

"Some kind of magic link with the Tower, I guess?" he said. "Ask Gnarl, he knows more about it than me."

"It seems a bit strange," she mused, flipping absently through a history on the Dwarves.

"What about this _isn't_ strange?" he asked her . He ran a hand down her back, cupped her ass. "I don't think either of us are exactly ordinary, love."

She flushed, pleased at the endearment, turned and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Shall we discuss what we're going to do with the Dwarven ruins?"

He gave her a wicked look that made her heart skip a beat.

"I think that can wait a few hours, don't you?"

She grinned.

"Master..." Gnarl said, voice echoing through the helmet. "There's someone here to see you. I think it's a...female someone."

"I swear he does that on purpose," Kelda groused. "Let her wait."

He rose to dress, a contemplative look on his face. Kelda stuck her tongue out at him, threw a pillow.

"Bastard! You're wondering if she's pretty, aren't you?"

"No," he lied, badly.

"Sealshit. You're incorrigible, you know that?"

"I am, aren't I?" he agreed cheerfully, leaned over to kiss her. "I'll deal with you later, wench."

"Arsehole," she replied, unable to keep the smile off her face.

After a moment, she dressed and went after him. She was more than a little curious- it wasn't every day mystery women showed up out of the blue. And, she admitted to herself, she also wanted to know whether the stranger was pretty or not.

She joined him in the throne room, standing by his side. Juno reclined on a bench beside him, useless and ornamental. Kelda hardly even spared her a glance, intent on the stranger.

A hooded figure stood hunched in the portal, wearing the robes of a Sentinel. There was a face beneath the blue hood, though- she could hardly make out the other woman's features, but there were hard lines around her mouth. She didn't carry herself like a young woman, either. The witch boy was staring at her intently, eyes narrowed. Gnarl cocked his head, studying the strange woman.

"Hang on a moment," he said. "Haven't I seen you somewhere before?"

There was something awfully familiar about her.

Rose pulled her hood lower, shadowing her eyes.

"I have been in many places," she said. "But I am here to warn you of the path you are treading."

Her son- her Thorn- reclined on a vast stone throne, firelight dancing over his black armor, massive axe resting on his knees, every inch the conqueror. He had gotten so _tall_, she thought. He looked so much like his father. She wondered what he'd grown up to look like, trying to see into the depths of his helmet. Despite everything she had done, despite all her desperate, best-laid plans, he had become the Overlord.

He looked like he was enjoying it, too. Rose flicked a glance over the women beside him, disapproving. One, red-haired and scruffy-looking, was studying her as though trying to figure out how to best gut and skin her. The other...Rose paused, taken aback. The other was the infamous Juno. Descriptions hadn't done the tart justice, Rose thought disdainfully. But even she had to admit that, under all the paint, the girl was quite lovely.

"I have seen it all before," she told him. "The minions. The Tower. The...women. It is a pattern that will lead to your destruction."

He was still watching her, eyes narrowed. She'd forgotten how expressionless the helm could render an Overlord. She couldn't tell if she was getting through to him.

"Nonsense!" Gnarl snapped. "The Overlord is the only one who will be doing any destroying around here!"

Rose gave him a cold look. She wondered if he had bothered to tell her son how his predecessors had met their ends...if he had told him what had happened to his father. As a rule, Overlords did not die peacefully in their beds.

"I have watched you for many years...from the shadows," she said. "You need to see what future awaits you. Seek answers in the old lands. The way is now open. The rest is up to you."

He was clever, and he was quick. He was her son, after all. Surely, if he saw the destruction around the old Tower...if he learned what had happened to his father...he would see reason. There had to be a way for his empire and the one she had built to coexist.

"The potty wench is right!" Gnarl exclaimed in surprise. "Grubby's found a portal! Well...it will be nice to visit the old country again, Sire, even if it is turned inside out and upside down. It will probably be quite chaotic, and dangerous. I would advise extreme caution." He grinned, rubbing his claws together.

Rose stared at him, chilly, wondering how she had ever considered the withered creature a friend. As if he sensed her eyes on him, he turned, gave her a yellow glare, opening the portal beneath her feet.

"Ha!"

She had expected something like this- she'd known the creature for years. She drew the Sentinel's power around her, let it lift her up and carry her away.

"Oh," Gnarl said, sounding nonplussed.

She allowed herself a brief smile of satisfaction, and then she landed hip-deep in the sewers with a most undignified splash.

"Oh, blast and damn," she snapped.

She picked her way out of the sludge, wincing. The Sentinels stood waiting for her- on drier land, she noted wryly. They held a struggling human in their midst.

"What have you got for me, now?" she asked curiously, wringing out her skirts.

"Please, your ladyship, let me go!" The man looked around at the Sentinels, eyes wide. "Please, I have a family!"

She looked closer at him. There was a strange scar on his neck- it almost looked like a chunk of his flesh had been gouged out. The skin of the scar was puckered and seared, like an old burn. She touched the arm of one of the Sentinels.

"Show me," she commanded.

She saw a dim vision of a shanty town hidden in the depths of the sewers, frightened faces peering out at the Sentinels as they swept past. There were _hundreds_ of people hiding down in the sewers, she realized...and most of them looked young...and tough.

"You had a brand there, once, didn't you?" she asked the man. "You're an escaped slave."

He sagged, looking up at her, frightened.

"Please, your Ladyship, don't let them send me to the Arena! I have a family!"

"Also escaped slaves, I assume?"

"Don't hurt them, ma'am, please!"

"Relax. I'm not here to hurt you. I'm...here to help you."

He gave her a deeply suspicious look. She sighed, realizing that most of the Empire citizens had only seen her in the Imperial box above the Arena, knew her only as Marius' cold-shouldered wife.

"Things have changed," she told him. "New variables have entered the equation, and new tactics are called for."

"Uh...what, ma'am?"

"I do not want to hurt you, or your family. As I said, I am here to help you...but I also need your help."

"Why would you need _our_ help, your Ladyship?"

She smirked, eyes cold.

"It's time for a power shift," she told him. "How would you like to help me start a coup?"

"A...a what, ma'am?"

"A rebellion," she said.

He looked at her, and she met his eyes. Slowly, he started to smile.

"I think I'd like that, ma'am," he said. "I think I'd like that very much indeed."

-x-

"Hmm." The Overlord drummed broad fingers on the arm of his throne, staring after the woman. "Gnarl."

"Yes, sire?"

"How do all these people keep getting into my Tower? First it was whingy peasants and Empire citizens. Now it's mysterious, hooded figures. What's next, gnomes?"

"I'm sorry sire, I really did think the portals were more secure. I'll have Grubby look into it."

"I've never seen a Sentinel quite like her before. And she was wielding magic. What do you make of all this?"

"I'm not sure, my Lord. I do think you should explore the old lands, though. I'm sure we could find all sorts of useful things there- and, if nothing else, you can see the old Tower! It truly was a terrible sight in its prime."

"This doesn't seem the least bit suspicious to you?" The Overlord glanced at his adviser, thoughtful. "A mystery woman shows up out of nowhere, claims she's been watching me, and we just suddenly happen to discover a portal to the Cataclysm lands? You don't think this could be some sort of trap?"

"It could very well be, Sire, but really, there's only one way to find out."

"They said I was the source of the Cataclysm, in the Arena." He frowned, troubled. "Gnarl...is that true?"

"No one is really quite sure what caused the Cataclysm, Sire," Gnarl said carefully. "What few clues there may be have been lost in the wastelands."

"Hmm. Well, if I don't follow up on this, it's going to nag at me forever." He stood, slung his axe over a massive shoulder. "Alright. Let's go adventuring."

"Hey." Kelda crossed to him, stood on tiptoe. She pulled the wrappings down from his face and kissed him, with a heat and passion that briefly made him consider staying. "Come back safe, alright? I'll kick your arse if you're not careful out there."

He grinned down at her.

"I'll do my best, love."

Juno started, turned to look at the two of them. Neither of them noticed. He pulled Kelda closer for a second, breathing in the woodsmoke scent of her. Her hands tightened against his back, and then, reluctantly, she pulled away.

"I'll be watching you," she told him warningly. "Don't do anything stupid, now."

He just smiled, pulled the scarf up around his mouth and strode into the portal, vanished in a crack of thunder. Kelda sighed, happy, sitting back.

"Well, well, well." Gnarl hobbled over to her, patted her knee. "You two have finally figured it out, have you? Took you long enough."

"Better late than never."

"Let's see what he's up to, why don't we?"


	14. Chapter 14

She didn't care, Juno told herself. She wasn't upset in the slightest.

She sat kicking her feet petulantly in the fountain, nursing a glass of sweet red Empire wine. She wasn't upset, she told herself again. Even after what she'd heard him say to that scruffy, skinny little slave girl.

Love. Ha! It was just a word. So many men had kissed their dowdy wives and told them that they'd loved them, then crept out and tried to court her. She'd heard the word 'love' more times than she could count. It meant nothing, she thought. She didn't care.

Still...it did smart a bit. Why was he wasting his affections on some foul-mouthed, uncultured peasant girl, when _she_ was practically in his lap? Was he _blind_?

Juno poured herself another glass of good Empire wine, suddenly homesick for the rolling sunlit hills of her home. It was too dark here, she thought, annoyed. If she wasn't careful, she was going to lose her tan.

"Mistress Juno." She heard the jingle of bells. "Why do you look so sad?"

"I'm not sad," she snapped. "I'm never sad. I'm _fabulous_."

Quaver crept closer, crouched in front of her, strange yellow eyes goggling up at her.

"You can tell me, Mistress." He giggled. "I can keep a secret."

"What does he see in that Norbergian bitch, anyways?" Juno asked. "The way he acts around her- it's disgusting! I think he thinks he _loves_ her!"

"Kelda?" Quaver blinked, nonplussed. "Oh, and here I thought that the Master had good taste." He rocked back, scratching at his ear like a dog, bells ringing. "I don't like that one. She throws things at me. She has very good aim."

"I'm sure it's nothing to worry about," Juno said, trying to reassure herself. "I mean, he'll come around eventually. They always do."

"Hmm." Quaver tilted his head, looking at her.

"What?"

"It's just...sometimes I think the Master is a little bit too much like his father. 'Love', feh. Overlords shouldn't _love_. They should hate, and be hated, and feared."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, his father just _looooved_ his Mistress Rose." Quaver sniffed, clasping his hands to his heart. "Mistress Rose said he shouldn't roast the villagers, because it wouldn't be _efficient_, and before you knew it, happy little peasants were frolicking all throughout the land. Mistress Rose said he shouldn't burn Everlight to a crisp because he should think of the _revenue_, and suddenly we're up to our necks in elves! Mistress Rose this, Mistress Rose that- it was all quite disgusting, really!"

"Who's Mistress Rose?" Juno asked, confused.

"You should really nip this whole 'love' thing in the bud, if you want my advice," Quaver said. "It's entirely too distracting. Leads to less proper Overlording, all around."

"Well, I agree with you, of course, but what should I do? Usually after I've had a man, I can't hardly chase him away. There was one poet who literally starved himself for me! I've never had to deal with...with..."

"Indifference?"

"Oh, he's not indifferent." Juno smirked. "After all, I'm _me. _But I don't quite have a leash on him yet, and...that's honestly never happened before." She frowned, sipping her wine. "I just don't quite get what he sees in that unkempt, uncouth little creature, either. Why does he seem to favor her?"

"Hmm." Quaver pulled himself up to the bench beside her. "The Master seems to have a fondness for a certain kind of...rough and tumble woman, I think."

"I can be rough and tumble," Juno purred.

"What I mean, Mistress, is not just in bed. A sort of active woman. One who likes to get things done." He looked up at her, considering. "Kelda is a hunter, for example. Maybe you could take up something like that."

"Ew." Juno looked down at her manicured nails. "I'm not really one for getting my hands dirty."

"The question is, Mistress, what do you have to offer the Master?"

"All of this!" Juno cried, gesturing to herself.

"Mistress, you are surpassing lovely...but I think you may need a bit more to get through to the Master."

"Is he _crazy_?"

"Probably, yes." He giggled again. "All of us are a bit cracked, down here."

"I've given him a way into the Empire," Juno snapped. "What more does he want?"

Quaver shrugged a misshapen shoulder.

"What do all men want, Mistress? Besides the obvious."

"Power," Juno said, after a moment's thought.

"Very good, Mistress. Overlords always want power most of all. Find a way to give him that, and I guarantee that little peasant wench will be out on her arse in an instant."

Juno tapped her manicured fingers against the wine glass, thinking. She remembered overhearing muted conversations among the Elvish slaves in Everlight, dark mutterings about terrible spider-mages in the depths of the jungle, sensual cults in the ancient ruins in the forest. At the time, she hadn't paid them any attention- who cared about what slaves said? But what if there was something to their ramblings?

It looked like she would be paying Everlight a visit once again.

-x-

The first thing he noticed about the Wastelands was the silence.

Even underground, in the depths of the Netherworld, there was the sound of life, whether it was the gibber of minions or the distant bellow of rock trolls. Here in the Wastes, though, there was no sound but the crunch of his boots on the blasted soil, the creak of his armor. He summoned the minions hastily, uneasy in the eerie silence.

They huddled close to him, even their usual exuberance dampened, goggling about warily. He slung his axe over his shoulder, straightening.

"Come on," he commanded, voice unnaturally loud in the dead air.

He led them through the blasted Wastes, stopped short, staring down at the ruins of a vast Dark Tower. He heard Gnarl sigh.

"Ah, the old Tower! This looming fortress was one the source of fear and brown trousers in this land!"

Great golden fangs jutted up from the crown of the Tower, like the teeth of some vast beast. He felt something stirring in his blood as he stared down at it. It would be glorious, he thought, to stand atop that Tower, to glower out over the lands he'd crushed beneath his heel...to crush and subjugate the peasants, drive them kneeling and trembling into its dark depths.

"I want one," he mused. "Gnarl, I'm going to build one of these."

"Careful, Sire. See those puddles? I don't think you should touch them."

He looked over at the glowing blue ooze. It stretched across the expanse of the Wastes, blocking his path down to the Tower. There was something strangely familiar about it.

"Really?" he asked sarcastically. "I was going to bathe in that, actually."

One of the little blues reached out before he could stop it, stuck a webbed hand into the muck. The air shimmered as the ooze evaporated. The little blue stood taller, ear fins fanning out, gurgling happily.

"Interesting," He said. "Well done."

The blue bobbed up and down, chest swelling until it looked about to burst.

He swept the blues forward, clearing through the muck. They splashed into it cheerfully, croaking and cavorting. The other minions followed warily in their wake, huddled together. One of the blues stopped short, ran back to him and tugged at his pant leg, pointing. He followed the direction the webbed hand was pointing, saw a vast fragment of a crystal, flickering fitfully with golden light.

"By my claws, that's a shard of the old Tower Heart!" Gnarl said, surprised.

"The what?"

"The Tower Heart, Sire! It grew in power with its Overlord, reflected his magic with its own. With the old Overlord gone, the magic in it should have been gradually expelled. But it looks like it...exploded for some reason."

"Mysterious explosions. That's always a good sign."

He walked to it, laid a hand against it against his better judgment. Something in it drew him, called to him.

_A giant of a man stood swaying in a circle of frantic minions beneath a ruined Tower._

_"__What is this place?" he asked, clutching his head. "What are you?"_

_"__Master!" The minions were hissing. "Master!"_

_Gnarl bowed to him, offering him a great black helmet._

_"__My Lord."_

He yanked his hand away, startled. The shard shimmered, vanishing.

"What was that?"

"A shard of the Tower Heart, Sire," Gnarl repeated patiently, and then made a noise of surprise. "Oh, it's made its way to your throne room, Sire! It's so nice to have at least part of it back again...it makes a Dark Fortress seem so much more homey."

"But I saw..." He fell silent. "Never mind."

He followed the blues, thoughtful. The man in the vision had had eyes just like his own.

"Look," he heard Kelda say. "Up ahead! A village!" She caught her breath. "Witch boy, be careful! I just saw someone in there! Someone human!"

"Nonsense!" Gnarl snapped. "Nothing lives here but the plague-tainted. Maybe it was a village once, but I assure you, it's a village no longer!"

"No, she's right," he said slowly, coming closer. "It _is_ a village. That wall's in good repair."

He walked into the silent village, wary. The minions crept closer to him, almost tripping him up as they tried to huddle closer to his legs.

"Hey!"

He turned, startled. A little man stomped out of a ramshackle hut, armed only with a stick. The man looked him up and down, frowning.

_"__He's tainted_," he heard someone whisper. _"__He's got the Plague!"_

The little man prodded him in the chest with the stick. The Overlord stared down at him, amused.

"Hold now, stranger!" he snapped. "Look, we've got enough problems here, without you and your lot of...whatever they are, coming through!"

A woman hurried to his side, whispered something in his ear. He paled, the stick clattering from nerveless fingers.

"The Demon Lord of Nordberg?" he gasped. He fell to his knees. "Please, forgive me, Lord, I didn't know it was you! Have they...have they sent you to finish us off, Lord?"

He tilted his head, staring down at the man.

"Please, don't kill us, Lord! We'll do anything!"

"What is this place?" he asked him. "Who are you people?"

It was the woman who answered. She was staring at him, seemed equal parts fascinated and frightened.

"The Empire sent us here, Lord. Claimed we'd been contaminated by the Plague. Why, I've got about as much magic as a rock, Sire...but I did run an underground printing press, back home."

"And you?"

"All I asked is why we never see the Emperor without his mask on," the man said. "I don't see why they had to haul me off in the dead of night and dump me out here."

"We get by as best we can, my Lord," the woman told him. "There's almost nothing to eat aside from them bloody blue slugs, and we've got to contend with the mutants, but-"

"Mutants?"

"Some of us, well...they eventually got tired of slugs and muddy water, tried to eat that blue ooze. It did something funny to them, sire. Made them go all crazy, and it also made them get real strong, too. We built that wall to keep 'em out."

"I'm going past the wall," he said. "To the Tower."

"Oh." The man blinked up at him. "You're a treasure-hunter, then, ain't you? You're trying to get into that old Tower. Well, I wouldn't do that, if I were you. That valley down there's just crawling with mutants, and the Tower itself is full of some awfully nasty traps."

"Oh, I'd forgotten all about those," he heard Gnarl muse innocently.

"I need a guide."

They looked at each other.

"Ooh, you see, that might be a bit hard to do..." The man said. "Not many of us are too keen on getting torn limb from limb, you see-"

The Overlord sighed, stretched out a hand and lashed his will out, whip-quick, power crackling through their minds. The pair blinked, shaking their heads.

"Of course, we live to serve, my Lord," the man said. "Follow me. We'll have to break through the outer gate to get through, I'm afraid. I'll show you the way."

The woman stared up at him, beaming.

"I think I love you," she said, trailed happily after.

Kelda snorted.

"Arsehole," she said, a smile in her voice.

"Hey, I can't help it! I just have that effect- it's my imposing presence."

"Is that what they're calling it these days? Nobody said you had to take the pretty one with you."

"Nobody said I couldn't!" He grinned. "Besides, I like pretty, tough, capable women. You should know that."

"Flatterer." He heard her drum her fingers. "Then how do you explain Juno, then?"

"Hey! I'm pretty!"

The exiles led him through their ramshackle little village. The minions scampered after a bit more cheerfully, now that there was the possibility of something to smash. People gaped from the shadows, scuttling fearfully out of his way.

"Here, my Lord," the man said solicitously. "Be careful. It's quite dangerous outside the gates."

"Break it down."

The gates splintered open, and the minions poured out.

"Master!"

A blue tugged at his fingers, pointing. He followed it, found himself gazing up at another shard of the Heart. He reached out warily, placed his hand on it, not sure what he would see.

_A red-haired woman looked up as the Dark Lord loomed in her doorway, gave him a perfunctory smile._

_"__Good evening, my Lord. Is there something I can do for you?"_

_"__I wanted to see how you were settling in."_

_"__Quite well, thank you." The woman licked the tip of her quill, writing studiously. "I must...thank you, Sire, for choosing to keep my in your employ, rather than my sister. I can assure you that I am most efficient."_

_"__My employ?" he asked, sounding amused._

_"__Oh, you know what I mean."_

_"__I have something to show you, Rose."_

_"__Oh?" She looked up, green eyes suspicious. "What is it?"_

_"__It's this way. But...close your eyes."_

_She gave him an arch look, then smiled._

_"__Oh, very well, as long as it's not anything nasty."_

_He led her down the hall, hand on her elbow._

_"__Look," he said. "In here."_

_She opened her eyes, looking around a little green garden. She made a small noise of surprise, clapped her hands together, suddenly looking years younger._

_"__Oh!" she cried. "Oh, how thoughtful!"_

_She looked up at the Dark Lord, a flush spreading over her cheeks._

_"__Thank you, Sire."_

The shard vanished. He rubbed his fingers together, remembering.

_Rose_, he thought. His mother's name...it had been Rose.

"Look out, my Lord!"

Something snarled wetly, lurching out of a ruined halfling hovel. It was vaguely humanoid, with milky, empty eyes and skin as dark as a bruise. The little man hurled himself into its path, stick flailing valiantly. The thing bellowed, a meaty paw cleaving through his skull.

"Shit!" The woman hit it in the back of the head with a rock, and it fell with a horrible gurgle. "Let's get out of here, Sire!"

The creatures boiled up from the stones, limping towards them with surprising speed.

"There's too many." He grinned, hands tightening on the shaft of his great black axe. "It's time for some fun, boys. What do you say?"

The minions cheered, flinging themselves into the fray. He joined them, whistling, axe flashing, black blood spraying across the stones.

"Lucky," Kelda muttered. "I wish I could be out there with you."

"But Mistress, you're still wounded!"

He heard her sigh.

"Gnarl, I'm not some flimsy Empire floozy. You don't have to be so protective!"

He kicked a mutant back, stunning it, gestured courteously to the woman.

"Would you like to do the honors?"

She just gaped at him. He shrugged and cleaved it in two as she squeaked, looking pale.

"Your loss."

The woman swallowed, looking like she would be sick, beckoned him forward.

"This way, Master. Be careful."

The woman crept forward, crawling up a ridge, held out her hand.

"I hear something, Sire. Wait here."

She leaned over the ridge, frowning, gestured for him to join her, pointing down at the Imperial Legion gingerly picking their way across the broken wastes.

"Look, my Lord," she whispered. "Empire troops! What are they doing he-"

A black-fletched arrow whistled through the dead air, struck her in the throat. She toppled over without a sound, her eyes wide with shock. The minions howled, sweeping down on the Empire soldiers. He thundered after them with a roar. The Imperials broke and scattered under the assault, going down beneath rangy brown bodies and flashing claws.

He flicked blood from his axe, frowning. It was a shame, he thought. She really had been rather pretty.

"Master!" One of the little blues tugged at his hand, pointing.

He followed its gaze and stood straighter, startled. The strange little elf was standing on a ridge above him, arms akimbo, brilliant stocking cap in eye-searing contrast to the dead lands around him. The elf met his eyes and glared at him, skipping down from the rocks.

"No time for pleasantries...not that I have anything pleasant to say to you!"

The Overlord cocked his head, studying him, bemused. What was _he_ doing here?

"Thanks for your help," he said, sarcastic. "What are you doing out here? Don't you have some pandas you ought to be fondling?"

The elf somehow managed to stare down his nose at him.

"I come on behalf of Queen Fay...against my better judgment...to offer you a truce. Follow me."

The elf scampered away. He frowned, tapping the blade of his axe against his palm, thinking.

"Why now?" he asked. "First Fay tries to kill me, and then she says she wants a truce?"

"Fay wants something," Gnarl said slowly. "I'm not sure what, but it sounds like she's in a spot of trouble. Maybe we could use that to our advantage."

"Maybe, but what if she's plotting something?"

"Oh, what are they going to do, my Lord? Whine at you some more? They're _elves_, for hells' sake."

"True."

He shrugged, and followed the elf.

"He's kind of cute, isn't he?" he heard Kelda muse.

He grinned.

"Would you like me to bring him back for you to play with?"

He heard her laugh.

"No, I'm not into whining and whinging, thank you. I mean, cute like a sick puppy."

"Are you sure? We could lock him up with the yeti."

"Just come back in one piece, spiky buns. That's all I ask."

"'Spiky buns'," Gnarl grumped. "I've heard 'sweet metal cheeks', and ugh, 'mon armor', but that's a new one."

Kelda chuckled, delighted.

"I think we're actually managing to disgust Gnarl, for once, instead of the other way 'round."

"What?" he asked. "Say it isn't so, cuddle bunny!"

"I'm afraid it's true, snuggle seal."

"Whatever shall we do, my little snowflake?"

"I don't _know_, my rein-dear!"

"Ugh." Gnarl moaned, sounding pained. "_Puns._ Enough, you two. You're going to give me indigestion."

She snickered.

"Hurry up, Scourge!"

He resisted a powerful urge to roll his eyes. He followed the elf into a hidden grove, found himself face to face with the Queen of the Fair Folk.


	15. Chapter 15

Queen Fay stood before the tunnel to the Last Sanctuary, flanked by dryads. She stared at the Scourge in front of her, her heart fluttering. He was _huge_, she thought, almost as tall as one of her trolls, with broad shoulders and trim, fur-clad hips, arms that looked like they could cleave through rocks. She was filled with the sudden urge to tear his helmet off and scratch his eyes out...although another, stranger part of her wondered what it would feel like to touch his magic-seared skin. It was most un-elflike, and she pushed the thoughts away, trying not to think of them. He inclined his head to her, strange little goblins gibbering around his legs.

"I take no joy that our paths have crossed again, but it appears that we share a common enemy," She said, gathering her courage. "One who is as relentless as they are powerful. I speak of Solarius' Empire. I know what you seek in these lands."

"Really," he said, sounding amused. "Then tell me, Queen Fay. What do I seek?"

It was the first time she'd heard him speak. His voice was so deep, she thought, startled. She could almost feel it in the pit of her stomach. She had been born and raised in magic, had spent her life surrounded by magical creatures, but this...it was like standing in the midst of some old, dark legend. She could feel the hair on the back of her neck standing on end, but she dared not show him her fear.

"You seek your artifact. The Tower Heart."

He leaned on his axe, studying her from beneath the helm. She shivered, skin prickling under his scrutiny.

"If you agree to join forces, I will send my lieutenant Florian to aid you."

"The Tower Heart's been shattered. I don't know how to repair it."

"I can heal it for you."

He was silent for a long moment, watching her. Her heart was thundering. She felt like a rabbit, trapped beneath the eye of a hawk, afraid to run, afraid to stay still.

"Why are you helping me?" he asked her at last.

"Solarius' forces are too great for either of us to fight alone. But together, we may stand a chance."

"Very well." He inclined his head to her again. "I accept your truce, Queen Fay. For now."

She shuddered, watching him stride into the depths of the Wastes after Florian. After a moment, one of her dryads touched her arm with a questioning murmur, and she realized she'd been staring. She shook head, trying to clear it. She followed the dryads into the Last Sanctuary, praying that she was doing the right thing.

-x-

"I'm really not sure about this," the Overlord muttered bad-temperedly, clanking after the elf.

"Help finding the Tower Heart shards would be useful, Sire," Gnarl reminded him.

"I'd honestly rather wander around in the Wastes for a couple of days."

"You can't be serious, Sire."

"If it's between that and listening to that bloody elf twaddle on, then yes, I'm serious. Everything about him just makes me want to see how far I can throw him."

"Well, I suppose we can always kill him when we're done."

"I'm looking forward to that."

"Over here, beast!"

The elf was waving, standing on another shard of the Heart. The blues scrambled towards him, giggling, and he followed after them. The Heart shards seemed to be brighter now, pulsing with life.

"Get off that," he snapped.

The shard almost seemed to move to him. He thought he felt its surface pulse as he touched it.

_"__Sire, we have prepared mighty armor for your battle against the Dwarves!"_

_The tall man lifted his arms, looking dubiously down at himself._

_"__Mighty armor," he said. "Really."_

_"__Well...somewhat mighty armor."_

_"__Really."_

_"__It's the best we can do on short notice, Sire! Bring back something better, and we'll see what Giblet can make for you."_

_The red-haired woman was watching, arms folded, a peculiar look on her face._

_"__Be careful," she said at last. "I'd hate to move all my luggage again."_

"Over here, Scourge!"

He shook himself. The visions seemed to be getting stronger- he'd almost been able to smell Gnarl. The blues hurried after the elf, trying to snatch at his stocking cap, chuckling to themselves. He followed them to the next shard, not sure what he would see.

_"__I have something for you," the tall man said._

_The woman looked up, frowning._

_"__I'm really in the middle of something," she said, stopped short, took a potted plant from his hands. "Oh! Is that elvesbane?"_

_"__I hope so." He gave the plant a dubious look. "You mentioned it a lot, so I looked it up in one of your books. But really, all plants look the same to me."_

_"__How on earth did you manage it? Elvesbane is guarded by thorns as long as my arm!"_

_"__I trust it's the right plant," he said. "Because I'm not going to wade through the Everlight muck again."_

_"__Oh, it's perfect!" The woman set the plant aside carefully. "Thank you! You've gone to a surprising amount of trouble for me."_

_"__Why surprising?"_

_"__I just never..." The red-haired woman was blushing now. "Nobody does things like this for me. Nobody's ever listened like you do, and nobody's ever...and you just...oh...I don't know how to thank you."_

_She was staring up at the Dark Lord now, almost on tiptoe. She seemed to realize how close she was, started to pull away. His hands settled on her waist, gentle, and she stopped short, caught in his embrace._

_"__You don't need to. I know."_

He frowned as the shard sublimated. The man in the vision was obviously his father, and it was equally obvious that he'd loved his Mistress. And she, too, seemed to have loved him. But if that were so...then why had she left him alone in the snow, so many years ago?

He didn't have time to think about her. He pushed the thoughts away, annoyed.

"Hurry up, beast!"

He was suddenly full of an almost overwhelming urge to nudge the elf into one of the virulent blue pools. All it would take was a push... He mastered himself with a supreme effort of will and trudged to the next shard. It let out a high, clear note as he approached it, straining towards him like an eager dog. Warily, he reached out.

_The red-haired woman was curled up around her growing belly in a vast bed, shoulders shaking as hoarse, ragged sobs tore their way from deep inside her chest-_

He yanked his hand away with a growl, shaking it as if he'd been burned. He had no pity for his mother, he thought. The bitch had abandoned him, had quite literally thrown him out in the cold. She meant nothing to him.

The last few shards were mercifully silent, shrank back from his touch as though they could sense his anger.

"I think that's it, Sire!" Gnarl announced. "Now we'll just get it fixed up, and we'll be back in business! Just like the old days."

"Oh, thank the gods. Can I kill him now?"

"Please."

"I think I see something up ahead, Scourge!"

The elf skittered up a hill. The Overlord stared after him, suppressing a sigh.

"I've lived underground for thirteen years, and even I know that those colors clash," he muttered.

The elf shrieked, high-pitched.

"They found us! They found us! We're doomed!"

"What is it this time?"

He followed the elf up the hill, found himself staring down at several hundred Imperial troops.

"Oh."

"It's that elf outlaw!" A centurion snapped. "Seize him!"

"No, please, have mercy!"

"We have no need of mercy, elf, we have justice! Take him to the Arena!"

"Oh, that's too bad," Gnarl sighed. "I suppose that's one Arena fight that won't last too long. Saves you the trouble of having to kill him."

"But I wanted to kill him," the Overlord said, disappointed.

"No time for that, Master, just get out of there!"

"You're right. I think it's time to go." The Overlord looked down at a blue that was clinging to his leg. "What do you think?"

The blue nodded, eyes wide, throat working.

"Let's run."

Marius hurried down to the Arena cells in the dead of night, cloak drawn up to hide his face. He rapped at a cell door, looking about nervously.

"My Lord!" he whispered. He knocked harder when there was no response. "Sire?"

Florian tapped him on the shoulder. He whirled with an undignified shriek. The elf smirked down at him, leaning back against the wall.

"Took you long enough," he snapped. "I got tired of waiting. I figured I might as well let myself out."

"Forgive me, my Lord." Marius handed him a long cloak. "We've had some...trouble."

"Trouble? I don't like the sound of that," Florian said, pulling the hood up over his long ears. "What sort of trouble?"

"Well...I'm afraid that my..._wife_...managed to escape, somehow. She wasn't at my villa, and we can't find her guards anywhere."

"Shit! I knew we should have sent more guards with her." He glared at the other man. "You underestimated her, Marius. Don't let it happen again."

"I won't, my Lord." Marius paused, wincing. "I'm afraid I have more bad news."

"Ugh, what?"

"The Sentinels have disappeared, my Lord."

"What do you mean, _disappeared_?"

"Exactly that, Sire. No one's seen them anywhere."

"They're six foot tall enchanted flesh constructs, Marius! How the hell does something like that just _disappear_?"

"I..I wish we knew, Sire. Unfortunately, we've also lost contact with at least half of our operatives...Rose, as you know, was the architect of our information network, and I'm afraid that more of our spies have proved loyal to her than we would like."

"Loyal to _Rose_?" Florian snapped. "They should be loyal to _me_, I'm their Emperor!"

"I know, Sire, but it feels as if the whole Empire's gone mad! The populace is terrified, we had a riot in the city market yesterday, and more and more slaves have been escaping into the hills."

"Fools." Florian snapped his fingers, and Marius handed him the golden mask. He settled it over his face, relaxing as he felt its smooth, cold lines caress his skin. "Ah. That's better. Here's what we'll do. We'll institute a curfew, and increase patrols throughout the city. Anyone speaking against the Empire is to be thrown into the Arena, without hesitation. I don't care if it's a slave or a senator."

"Of course, Sire."

"Our troops are poised to break into the Last Sanctuary. It won't be much of a Sanctuary for long."

"Ah, but my Lord...Queen Fay has been able to repel every one of our attacks so far with the power of her Shrines."

"Relax. They won't be a problem." Florian grinned behind the mask. "I've sent the barbarian to deal with them."

"What do you mean, Sire?"

"I managed to convince Fay that he could help her if she gave him the power of the Shrines. We'll let the elves wear him down a bit, and then we'll sweep in and drain the bastard and every last magical creature in Fay's sparkly little realm."

Marius was practically vibrating with excitement, beady eyes shining.

"And then, my Lord?"

"And then I- I mean, we- will ascend as gods."

Fay stood waiting in the Sanctuary as the Tower Heart pulsed in time with her heartbeat. It was like a living thing, she thought in fascination. When she had healed it, she had felt it brush her mind, with mute, inanimate curiosity.

She heard the gibber of goblins, the heavy tread of steel on stone. She looked up from the Heart, trying to keep her hands from shaking. The Scourge stood below her, gazing at the Tower Heart.

"I have assembled the shards of your artifact, Dark One, but it has very little power left."

He reached out, almost gently, and touched it. It pulsed at his touch, darkness swirling beneath its brilliant surface, like schools of fish beneath bright water.

"Thank you," he said, surprising her.

She cleared her throat, recovering.

"The Empire seek to force their way into the Last Sanctuary, and from there into your realm. If you really believe this can strike a decisive blow against Solarius, then I give you permission to charge it with energy from my shrines."

"I do," he said.

"Alas, this will mean the destruction of the creatures that live there." Fay shivered. "Grave decisions must be made in a time of war, but I pray that they will not suffer too long. I hope that this object is worth Florian's life. I fear he is not long for this world...especially if he is put in Solarius' vile Arena."

The Dark One shrugged a broad shoulder.

"It's not so bad," he said. "I survived it."

She stared at him, shocked.

"But...no one comes back from the Arena," she murmured.

Perhaps she had made the right decision after all. Perhaps the Scourge of Nature, despite all his evil deeds, really would be the one to save her people. Maybe the Goddess had finally heard her prayers, and had sent her this dark champion.

The earth shook. She looked up, dust filtering through the branches of the Sanctuary.

"Go, we don't have long before they break through!"

He nodded to her once, strode away. She stared after him.

"Please, Mother," she whispered. "Please, let this all be worth it."


	16. Chapter 16

It was boring, watching the big armored lunk wandering aimlessly around the blasted Wastes, and it was damned irritating, the way he and the scruffy little peasant kept wittering at each other. Juno had wandered out of the throne room in short order, packed a bag for Everlight.

"I'm off to the beach!" she declared. "I need some sun, and maybe a pretty elf boy or two."

"You're going out _now_?" the peasant girl demanded. "When he's out in the Wastes?"

"Oh, he'll be fine." Juno shrugged, unconcerned. "He always is." She snapped her fingers. "Hurry up, Quaver."

The jester scuttled to the portal with a jingle, struggling under the weight of several bags, an umbrella, and what looked like a lounge chair.

"Oh come on, you can't just order him about like that!" Kelda protested. "He's not yours, after all." She turned to Gnarl for help, found him simply staring at Juno, smiling rather vacantly. She huffed. "Oh, fine. Do what you want, just make sure he comes back in one piece. I think the Witch Boy's a bit fond of him, for some reason."

"I used to sing him lullabies," the jester piped up.

"Oh, yes, I remember," Gnarl said faintly. "I recall he kicked you out a window after that. Said his ears didn't stop ringing for days."

"Come _on_," Juno demanded.

"Yes, coming Mistress, coming!"

He scurried after her through the portal into the Everlight jungle.

"That was clever, Mistress, very clever!" he complimented her, dropping her things with a crunch that made her wince. "Make them think you're going out to the beach, and-"

Juno was pouting.

"But I _do_ want to go to the beach," she muttered.

The little creature was resolutely marching off into the undergrowth. After a moment she sighed and picked up her skirts, struggling after him.

"Fine," she snapped. "But after this, I have _got_ to work on my tan!"

The jungle was awfully dark, and there were strange sounds in the underbrush. Juno shivered, feeling eyes on her back. She turned, saw nothing but a brightly-colored parrot and a few frogs. She shuddered and pressed on.

"Quaver, hang on!" She shook a stick loose from her sandal. "Oh, my shoes are going to be absolutely _ruined_."

She pushed her way into a clearing, almost ran straight into the jester. He was goggling up at the trees. Juno followed his gaze, squinting. The trees were covered with some sort of downy floss-

In an instant, she realized that the branches were covered in thick swathes of spiderwebs. Dark, arachnoid bodies moved beneath the boughs, hissing. She swallowed. There were an awful lot of the things.

"You know what," she whispered. "On second thought, I'm not really sure about this. Let's head back."

"Lead the way, Mistress."

She heard a hiss behind her, whirled. A massive spider clung to a tree trunk, mandibles flexing.

"Oh. Oh gods."

She suddenly wanted nothing more than to hit it with her shoe.

"Stand still, Mistress! Perhaps they can't see us if we don't move-"

She felt something hit her shoulder, turned and looked into faceted eyes. She screamed, flailing at the spider, staggered backwards into a web.

"Oh, damn it!" She tugged at her toga, hearing it tear. "I'm never going to get this sticky stuff out of my dress!"

Something skittered down the back of her neck, and she felt twin pinpricks as the spider bit her. She swayed, vision blurring, as a tall woman walked out from amongst the webs. She was entirely naked, but for a featureless stone mask.

"Welcome, sister," the woman said, voice thick and sibilant. "We are so glad you've come to join us."

-x-

Juno woke slowly, tongue thick, head throbbing. For a moment she wondered where she was, how much she'd had to drink the night before. She blinked as her vision resolved, found herself staring up at a vast and rather tasteless sculpture of some kind of terrible spider goddess. She tried to sit up, found that she was bound at the wrists and ankles with what she could only assume was spiderweb. She looked over, saw a long knife and a ceremonial-looking bowl. Quaver, it seemed, had scuttled off to some dark corner.

"Good. You're awake."

The masked woman stalked towards her, flanked by a pair of masked male acolytes. Despite her predicament, Juno found herself eyeing them appraisingly. Both, like the woman, were entirely nude, and entirely easy on the eyes.

"What's this all about?" Juno demanded. "Are you going to sacrifice me or something? Because, if you're going to kill me, I'd rather it be someplace a bit classier than this tacky mess."

"Sacrifice you?" The mask made her features unreadable, but the woman sounded surprised. "No, my sister. We've brought you here to join us."

"Join you?"

"The goddess Arachna loves women like us," the woman declared. "I am her high priestess, but she calls others to her- calls her daughters home."

"What do you mean, 'women like us'?"

The woman swayed closer, her hips moving hypnotically.

"Powerful women. And..." she trailed a finger over the chest of one of her acolytes. "Sometimes, men, too. Daughters of sucubi. Sons of incubi. People with demon blood running in their veins, with the power to seduce and control."

"I've been accused of being a succubus before," Juno said, amused. "Also, a witch, and a sorceress, and once, even, a vampire. But I don't have any magic at all. I'm completely human."

The trio of masks stared down at her, and she found herself looking up into wide, mad eyes.

"Are you so sure?" the priestess purred.

They were insane. All three were insane, and they had her bound next to a very large knife that was still of uncertain purpose.

"Okay," Juno said slowly. "Sure, okay, I'm a succubus. I'd love to join you and your spider cult, of course. But why do you have me tied up?"

"Oh." The priestess slid off her mask, and Juno stifled a scream. "It's just a formality. Some of our new...initiates...tried to run away at first. We fixed that problem."

The woman's face had been mutilated, mutated, chitinous black growths bursting through her skin. A second pair of faceted eyes blinked above her brows, and mandibles worked wetly in the ruin of her mouth.

"Oh," Juno said weakly. "I can't imagine why."

"We're going to show you true beauty," the high priestess said, taking up the knife. "We'll remake you into the image of the Goddess, and then we'll show you true power-"

"Hang on a second!" Juno demanded. "Before you...um...go to all this trouble for me, don't you think you should be sure that I even have this power thingy you're talking about?"

The woman tilted her head.

"But don't you want to be beautiful?"

"I _am_ beau- I mean, sure, sure, but it seems like an awful lot of work for you, especially if I don't turn out to be what you're looking for. Isn't there some sort of test or something I could take? Just to make sure I'm the right fit for your cult thingy and all."

"But the spiders chose you," the priestess said slowly.

An acolyte touched her arm.

"Perhaps, High Priestess, they simply wanted to eat her. It's happened before." He looked nervous. "We can't risk the displeasure of the Goddess, not after what we let happen to the Spider Queen."

"Oh, damn, you're right." To Juno's immense relief the woman pulled on her mask again. "Very well, my sister. We will put you to the test."

She cut the spider silk and led her out to a high platform.

"Behold, my brothers and sisters, your new sister! Soon, she shall leave her old name and face behind, but first...she shall be tested!"

Juno swallowed hard, finding herself staring down at several dozen blank stone faces. Hundreds of spiders swarmed over the walls.

"Behold, the sacred egg sac!"

The high priestess held a strangely-carved rock above her head, deposited it into Juno's hands. Juno swallowed hard, trying not to gag as she felt it pulsating. The carvings seemed to glow and pulse in time with her heartbeat, sickly green, and the thing felt obscenely alive.

"Let the Goddess test her!"

She felt her mind being funneled into the stone, looked down and saw hundreds of tiny black bodies swarming towards her. She stifled another scream as the spiders blanketed her, trying not to breathe as they covered her face. She could _feel_ their minds, she realized with revulsion. The stone was acting as a conduit, letting her sense the spiders...and control them. She reached out gingerly, and the little spiders scurried away beneath the stones of the temple.

"The Goddess has tested her, and found her worthy!" the priestess exclaimed. "Now she can shed her old face, and join us in worship!"

"Yeah, about that." Juno hefted the stone. "Change of plans."

"What?"

The priestess turned towards her, shocked. Juno brained her with the relic.

"How dare you!" one of the acolytes howled. "The sacred egg sac is not a weapon!"

"Seize her!" the other ordered.

"Stay back!" She snapped. "Or I'll smash this stupid thing!"

"You can't smash the sacred egg sac!" One of them snapped.

"Watch me!"

"No, I mean, it's unbreakable."

"Oh. Well, in that case..."

Juno reached out, calling the spiders. They swarmed up over the platform, falling on the acolytes. She smirked.

"Good boys," she purred.

A particularly large and hairy spider crouched in front of her, wiggling its back. She stared at it, nonplussed. It reached out and brushed her thoughts, making her shudder, and she realized that it wanted her to ride it. She climbed gingerly onto its back.

"Ew, ew, ew," she muttered as it scurried away from the temple and the pursuing shouts of the cultists, suppressing the urge to hit it with a stick until it stopped moving. "Ew, oh gods, ew."

The spider stopped in front of the portal, and she clambered off gratefully, feeling as though she'd be scrubbing herself clean for days. Quaver gave her a shame-faced grin.

"Er, Mistress! Glad to see you're alright. I just thought I'd make my way back here and, er, guard the portal."

"Sure you did."

"Er...shall we, er, head to the beach, Mistress?"

"Hmm." Juno looked down at the stone, smiling. "No, I don't think so. For once, I can hardly wait to get back to the Netherworld."

-x-

Fay stared ahead, clinging to the rail, swaying, sickened. She'd _felt _her subjects die, heard their screams echoing in her ears as the Scourge had drained her shrines. All that death, she thought, and it still hadn't been enough to charge his artifact.

Part of her wanted to hate the Scourge, blame him for the chaos that he'd brought to her realm. But she'd been the one to invite him in, after all- she had even shown him the way. She, and she alone, was to blame.

She heard his heavy tread, sensed the faint pain of the grass as it died beneath his boots. His very presence here hurt her, was killing her realm. If she were a proper queen, she thought wearily, she would have known how to stop him and the Empire both. Instead, she had sacrificed her subjects for nothing, sending them to a death they couldn't understand, and could never forgive her for.

"What great magic your artifact must have once held, Dark One," she said softly. "Even the power of my shrines could not revive it."

"They didn't suffer much," he told her. "Your subjects."

"No," she said, her eyes filling with tears. "No, I felt them, Dark One. They suffered. So many have died." She felt very, very cold. "So many innocents. It was I who condemned them...so it is only fitting that I walk the same path."

He stared down at her, inscrutable, towering over her. He was like a figure out of legend, she thought, a dark force or a divine punishment.

"Please," she whispered, trying not to feel frightened, failing. "Before I change my mind."

"I will be quick."

His magic lashed out, wrapping crackling tendrils about her mind. She gasped, back arcing, as she felt his will enter her, met his mind with her own.

_She'd been a girl of thirteen summers again, curled up in a hollow tree trunk, hoping that no one would find her. She was crying and didn't know why. Everything had suddenly felt so _heavy_, the weight of her blood too much to bear._

_ "Fay?"_

_ Oberon's voice. She'd sat up, knowing she couldn't hide from him. He'd seen the tears on her cheeks and had gone to her, wrapped her in his arms. He hadn't asked her what was wrong, she realized. He'd known._

_ "Father," she'd choked. "Father, I don't know what's wrong with me. I hurt, Father, and I don't know why."_

_ "Oh, little Fay." He'd wiped her cheeks, gentle. "I had hoped that my curse would pass you by. It seems you will inherit my burden, as well as my crown."_

_ "What do you mean?" she'd asked him. "What curse?"_

_ "It's like a great black bird," he'd said slowly. "It settles on my shoulders, out of a clear blue sky, and weighs me down. This weariness. This creeping sadness." He'd tipped her chin up and met her eyes. "You must fight it always, my little fawn, or it will wear you down to nothingness."_

She could feel the Dark One moving in her, feel him draining her, feel her magic bleeding into him as he sucked her dry. It was an intimate invasion, his power crackling electric over her body, spreading dark tendrils through her own bright magic.

"Forgive me, creatures of the Sanctuary," she gasped. "Please, forgive me! It is the only way!"

"The poor thing! She's gone quite mad, Petunia! We must save her!"

She felt strong arms seize her, ripping her away from his grasp. She gasped, agonized, clutched at the pixies' padded fingers.

"No!" she gasped. "Please, I'm trying to save you!"

"By letting that nasty man hurt you?" Wide black eyes peered down at her. "Are you feeling alright, dearie? Perhaps you need a holiday."

"Please, don't make this harder than it has to be!"

"Look out, Begonia! Oh dear, he's back!"

"Nasty, nasty man! Let's regroup! Don't worry, dearie, we'll be back to rescue you!"

The pixies dropped her in a most undignified heap, buzzed off in a hurry. Fay stood slowly, looked up as the Scourge paced towards her, unhurried. She realized at that moment that she was truly going to die. For an instant she thought of bolting, and then his touch was on her again. She realized she'd craved it, sent her own mind out towards him, shaking. He felt like lightning, like an earthquake, like a firestorm roiling through her marrow. She'd never felt such raw, wild, _wicked_ magic before, not even in the most sacred depths of the Sanctuaries.

"Please," she whispered. "Please, it's the only way. Take me, take all of me!"

_She'd sat next to a blonde-haired boy in her father's bower as Oberon had taught them of the mercies of the Goddess. She'd read the old stories before, had hardly listened to him. Instead, she'd stared at the boy beside her, fascinated. He'd glared at her out of the corner of his eye._

_ "What?" he'd hissed._

_ "You're Florian, right?" she'd whispered._

_ He'd wrinkled his nose at her._

_ "What's it to you?"_

_ "It's just...is it true that you don't have any magic?"_

_ "Oh, piss off."_

_ "I was just curious," she'd said, wounded, had touched his arm. "Well...the Mother Goddess must have a reason for it, so don't feel so bad."_

_ He'd jerked his arm away, angry_

_ "The Mother Goddess is a bitch!" he'd snapped._

_ She'd gaped at him in horror._

_ "Be careful, Florian! She'll strike you down if you say that!"_

_ "Do you really think she listens to _us_?" he'd asked her. "She's a Goddess, after all. Why should she care about us?"_

_ "Well...because she loves us!"_

_ "Trollshit! She doesn't love me. Have you ever even heard her answer when you pray?"_

_ "Yes, of course I have!"_

_ "Are you sure?"_

_ Fay had hesitated, then...and a seed of doubt began to take root in her soul._

"What is this feeling?" Fay cried. "Your...your dark energy is taking me over! My light is fading!"

She could feel her body straining for his touch, parts of her blooming as they hadn't in decades. She shuddered, felt herself flushing. This surrender felt, almost...erotic, she thought, frightened. She didn't deserve to feel like this, she thought guiltily, not after all she had done.

"Oh, dear, now why are you letting the nasty man do that to you, dearie?"

Strong fingers grasped her arms, tore her away. She buckled, gasping, head whirling, feeling like she was drunk or suffocating, like she would shatter into a thousand pieces if he touched her again.

"Please," she heard herself begging, didn't know what she was pleading for. "Please, help me."

She heard something shattering, heard screams. She was limp, shaking, collapsed as the pixies deposited her on a balcony. One of the fairies peered into her eyes, worried.

"Are you quite alright, dearie?"

"What's happening to me?" she whispered, shivering. "I'm so cold."

"Just rest here, dearie. We'll bring you some tea, won't that be nice?"

The pixies buzzed away efficiently. Fay shuddered, went to the edge of the balcony. The Scourge looked up at her. Before she could stop herself, she beckoned to him, and before she could think, he had her in his grasp again, lightning crackling through her thoughts, jarring loose old memories she thought she'd forgotten long ago.

_ Her mother had woken her late one night, led her down to the darkest depths of the forest._

_ "Come, my little fawn," she'd whispered. "I have something I want to show you."_

_ There had always been rumors, she thought, about what her mother was. Her father's courtiers had whispered whenever they'd thought she wasn't around, whispers of dark elves, of sunless depths and lost tribes. As a child, all she'd known was that she'd loved her mother, strange as she seemed, with her scarred, dusky skin and her strange black eyes, her wild magic._

_ "Quiet, now," Titania had whispered. "Don't wake your father."_

_ She'd crept through the forest alongside her, hand in hand. Her mother had stopped at last, pulling aside the branches._

_ "Look, little one."_

_ She'd followed her mother's gaze, looking into a clearing. In the ruins of an ancient temple, gorgons were dancing to the beat of savage drums. She'd pulled back with a frightened gasp._

_ "Mother!" She'd gasped. "Gorgons! We have to tell Father!"_

_ Her mother had frowned down at her._

_ "Not yet, Fay. Watch them. Aren't they beautiful?"_

_ "But...they're creatures of dark magic! They're evil!"_

_ "Why do you believe that?" he mother had asked. "Because your father told you so?" She'd crouched to look her in the eyes. "This is their home, too. Don't they have a right to live here, just as we do?"_

_ "I-"_

_ "Not every child of light is good or honest, and not every creature of darkness is foul and vile. There is beauty to be found, deep in the dark." Titania had kissed her brow then, her black eyes sad. "Remember that, my little fawn."_

_ Mother,_ Fay thought, exhilarated. _I understand now. I know what you were trying to tell me._

The Scourge's power swallowed hers, cradling it, took the scattered shards of her mind and refashioned them into something deadly, something lovely, something new and whole. She felt herself fall, felt the lightning sharp tendrils of his magic catch her, forcing their way towards her secret heart.

"This darkness...it's beautiful!" She heard herself cry. "Please! Take me! Take all of me! It is the only way!"

"Queen Fay, no!"

The ugly little pixies grabbed her arms, hauling her up bodily. She had never noticed how hideous they were before, she thought, and she struggled against their grip, repulsed.

"Let go of me!" she commanded.

"My lady, please, you're not yourself! You need a nice lie-down."

"Are you really this stupid?" She snapped. "Are you even hearing me?"

"You're sick, dearie," The pixie said, blinking wetly at her. "And we must help the sick and enfeebled, musn't we?"

"I am your _Queen_, put me down!"

She wrenched her arms free, furious, power lashing out. The pixies dodged, clutched each other, gasping.

"Dearie, please, think about what you're doing!"

"Yes, my lady! What would the Goddess think?"

"I don't _care_," Fay heard herself snarl.

She stopped short, shocked at the sound of her own voice. She saw the pixies' great eyes widen, and they turned and fled. She turned, walked to meet the Scourge, lifted her face to him as he reached out and drew her magic from her.

_"Father?"_

_ She'd returned to the forest from Everlight, had heard terrible things about what had happened, but she'd refused to believe them until she'd seen Oberon, a great tree spreading roots through his living flesh._

_ Oberon had opened his eyes._

_ "Fay?" he'd rasped._

_ "Father, what happened to you?"_

_ "The black bird is heavy upon me, my little fawn. I am so weary. I am so lost."_

_ "Father, please, you have to fight it!" She'd struggled towards the tree, even as its roots rose to force her back. "Please, Father, I can't do this without you!"_

_ "He is coming," Oberon had whispered. "He is coming to set me free."_

_ She'd heard the heavy tread of armor, smelled sulfur and soot._

_ "Run, Fay," her father had gasped, his eyes closing. "Run, before he sees you."_

_ She'd seen gold eyes in the depths of the sickly forest, and then, to her eternal shame, she'd turned and fled._

"That's it! That's it!" Fay gasped, despairing. "Consume me!"

He was so close. She could feel the heat of his body, could smell him, the scent of oil and metal and gunpowder. He could reach out and strike her down if he'd wanted to, but he only took what she had offered, dragging the last strains of her magic out from her soul.

"The end is coming, I can feel it!," She cried. "The darkness is overwhelming me!"

Fay fell, then, the last of her light fading, knew that everything was over, felt herself falling into the longest night. She was ready, she thought wearily. She would go, to join her father and her lost people, at long last.

She felt the Scourge catch her, looked up at him, surprised, as she felt his dark power release her, almost gentle.

"What?" she whispered. "Why?"

He looked down at the fragile elf woman. It would be so easy to kill her, he thought, with a sudden, malevolent hunger, to snuff out her life in a heartbeat. Then he saw her face pale as she looked around the ruins of her Sanctuary, felt her stiffen. It would almost be kinder to kill her, he thought, and he let her go, let her stumble and fall to her knees.

"I live..." She whispered. It was almost a question. "When so many others have died."

She looked up at him, and to his surprise her eyes were not full of fear, but of devotion.

"You have made me a new woman, Dark One," she whispered. She rose, graceful. "I shall adjourn to your Tower. I will await you...eagerly."

She had so much to learn, she thought. She could hardly wait to feel the touch of that dark power on her again, to feel it crackling over her body.

"Queen Fay?"

She turned. An elf was crouched subserviently before her. She felt her lip curl, looking down at what she had once been.

"No!" she snarled. "I am no longer your Queen! I see clearly now, and I want nothing more to do with this place. He is your ruler now, and you will obey his every command!"

"What?" The elf was staring up at the Overlord. "Queen Fay, you must be kidding, man."

"Hardly." Fay smiled, realizing it was something she hadn't done in years. "I have a whole new world waiting for me...don't I, Dark One?"


	17. Chapter 17 (NSFW)

Gnarl shook his head, dismayed. The boy was collecting Mistresses like a spinster collected stray cats. If he wasn't careful, the Tower would be overrun with them...and, worse yet, in little Overlads and lasses. He had been fond of the boy, but even he had to admit that one Overlad had been more than enough.

He surveyed the scene in the throne room, wondering if he should scurry off to cover. Kelda was circling the newcomer, teeth bared in a grin that was distinctly unfriendly.

"Hello to you, too, then," she ground out. "Just who might you be?"

The woman gave her a haughty look.

"I am Quee- I am Fay. Your new Mistress, peasant girl."

"Oh, really." Kelda looked her up and down. "Funny, I don't remember the Master saying anything about you."

"Oh, I'm sure that soon I'll be all he'll talk about."

"Ha!" Juno drifted closer, gave the elf woman a chilly look. "Oh, you're just adorable. Your look is cute, too. It's very...teenage rebel."

"It's a little crowded here as it is, fairy," Kelda snapped. "Why don't you flitter on home before you get hurt?"

Fay tried to stare her down, haughty. Kelda just stared back. Juno watched the two of them, smirking. The portal grated behind them as the Overlord came home.

He looked between the three of them, briefly considering turning around and stepping back out. Gnarl hurried to his side, looking harried.

"Sire, I'm ordinarily all for assembling a harem, or whatever it is you're trying to do here, but the elf woman? Really?"

"She followed me home," he said wearily. "What did you want me to say to her? 'Yes, I've just destroyed your entire kingdom and drained you to a husk, but no, you can't come back with me. So sorry.'"

"Yes! That's exactly what you should have said! You're the _Overlord! _Gods below, I'm going to gnaw my own ears off if I have to hear the ladies keep squabbling! Do something about this, Sire!"

"What am I supposed to do?" he hissed back, sounding more than a little desperate.

"Well...lay down the law! You're the Master here, after all!"

The portal was starting to look more and more attractive. Gnarl had said something about his father getting trapped in an Infernal Abyss. An Infernal Abyss sounded rather nice at the moment.

"He'll settle this," Kelda snapped. "Won't you, witch boy?"

He swallowed, was suddenly glad that they couldn't see his face.

"It seems we need to do a bit of housecleaning," Fay purred. "I didn't realize that you had a couple of unfortunate hangers on. In this corner, a refugee from the Empire with more in front than up top."

"Ridiculous," Juno snapped. "My hair is lovely! And _I_ don't wear black out of season."

"And some kind of Nordbergian snow rat. I didn't know you did charity work."

"Hmmph." Kelda snorted. "I'd like to see you try to wrestle down and skin a rabid seal-mother, fairy."

"I suppose it's too much to ask that you just kill them right now...so I'll just settle for being the First Mistress."

Again, she said it like it was a title. He glanced at Gnarl, who twiddled his claws innocently.

"Gnarl."

"Er...I may have said something about one or another of them being First Mistress, Sire. How could I have predicted how it would set them off?"

He looked between the three of them. He understood battle, he thought wearily, he understood magic and tactics, but women were something beyond him.

"Sire," Gnarl hissed out of the corner of his mouth. "Do something? Please?"

He strode past them, flung himself into the throne.

"Fay. I'm not killing any of my Mistresses. You've invited yourself here, and while you remain here, you are my guest. You will be treated as such, and you will behave as such. Is that clear?"

She looked away, frowning.

"Yes, my Lord."

"Juno."

"Yes, Master?" she asked, preening.

He'd choose her as his First Mistress, she thought. After all, she was _Juno_.

"That goes for you, as well."

"But-"

"Kelda."

"What." She put her hands on her hips, glaring at him.

"Since the three of you insist on making this...official...you are First Mistress. You'll continue to oversee the upkeep of the Fortress, as you've been doing. Now you just have a title of sorts. Congratulations, I suppose."

"What?" Juno cried.

Fay frowned, looking murderous. Kelda smirked.

"Oh, don't be bitter, ladies. He and I have a history, after all."

He drummed his fingers, annoyed.

"Don't rub it in."

Kelda ducked her head.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly.

"Fay. The minions will show you to your quarters while you're here."

"I'll show her." Juno linked an arm through the elf woman's. Fay looked at it, nonplussed. "Come on, sweetie. If you're staying with us, we might as well get acquainted. Maybe we can find you something a little more subtle to wear, too."

She threw a smouldering glance over her shoulder as they walked away, gaze raking Kelda from head to foot. Kelda tossed her hair, smirked back.

"I suppose I'll have to find some way to thank you, witch boy," she purred, crossing to the throne.

"The three of you can stop squabbling like a pack of gulls," he snapped. He pulled off his helmet and raked a hand through his hair, irritated. "That would be thanks enough."

She stopped, hurt.

"Hey, _I'm_ not the one who insisted on bringing a bunch of pretty strangers home! Things were so much nicer, back when it was just you and me." She felt her hands bunching. "I don't see why you need a bunch of other women around when you have me."

"I _want_ to have them around."

"Well, I don't! I want you-"

"For yourself? Kelda. I would never bind you like that. Don't do the same to me."

"Damn it." She was pacing, running her hands through her hair. "It's just...the way that elf bitch looked at me...did you know, she ordered me to bring her a drink as soon as she got here? Not an introduction or anything. Literally snapped her fingers at me. And Juno! The way that cunt looks down her nose at me, makes fun of the way I talk, it just makes me want to throw her over the railing."

"I like the way you talk." He caught her hand as she swept past him again, pulling her down onto his lap. "I love you, you spiky, ferocious little bitch. The Mistresses I take won't change that, you know."

"Yeah, but _Juno_?" Kelda asked, wrinkling her nose. "And an elf? Really?"

"I've lived quite literally under a rock for the past thirteen years, Kelda. Haven't you ever been curious?"

"Oh my gods, me and an elf boy? Can you imagine? 'Hey, that's not real fur, right? Before I go down on you, I have to know, are you vegetarian? Because I only eat out vegetarians.' Gods above, I think I'd kill him."

She felt his laugh, turned to him and kissed him.

"Hey," she said at last. "I'm sorry. This is all just...new to me. I know the elves are all about the whole 'free love' thing, but it's not something humans do all that much. We're a bit too selfish."

He caught her wrists with one vast hand, gave her a cruel look that made her blood race.

"Who said anything about 'free'?" he purred.

His hand slid under her dress and up her thigh. She shivered, moving her hips closer to his. He looked around the throne room, eyes cold.

"_Leave us."_

She heard the skitter of claws on stone, and not a few disappointed grumbles. He turned that bright gaze back to her, eyes moving over her curves.

"Here, witch boy?" she asked him, half-joking. "Now? You can't be serious. Maybe we can move to the bedroom-"

He was unlacing the stays of her corset now, yanked her dress down hard enough to tear it, caressed her breast. She gasped, blushing, trying to pull away. Surely he didn't-

His fingers tightened, hard enough to bruise. Kelda growled low in her throat, struggling to break free. He held her fast, impossibly strong, watching her with amusement. She could feel him growing hard under her, rubbed herself against him with a guttural moan.

"Bastard," she snarled.

"Bitch."

He kissed her, and she caught his lower lip between her teeth, biting hard enough to draw blood. He drew back and licked his lip, gave her a hard smile.

"So that's the way you want to play, then?"

She bared her teeth at him. Her arrow wounds had healed remarkably fast, and he had been away for what felt like an awfully long time.

"Too rough for you, witch boy?"

"You want rough?" He stroked her hair, twisted it suddenly, hard enough to make her gasp.

She snarled at him, slammed a knee into his side. He just laughed at her, picked her up bodily and threw her down against the throne.

"I can play rough."

She felt his hand settle on the back of her neck, pinning her. She struggled against his grip, nails sinking into his wrist. She heard him growl as he wrestled her skirts up over her hips.

"Gods, I've missed you."

He slid a finger into her, beckoning. She gasped, arcing her hips up against him. She was so warm, so soft and wet. He grinned down at her, twisting a fist in her hair, loving the way her muscles clenched and bunched as she tried to fight him.

Her thighs were slick. She gasped, the stone of the throne hot against her burning cheeks. He pulled his fingers away, and she growled at him like an animal.

"Arsehole!" she snapped. "Don't bloody stop!"

She looked back at him, eyes blazing. He undid his belt one handed, slid his trousers down around his waist, studying her, smirking.

"I said, don't stop, damn it!"

"Hmm, I don't know." She saw him look towards the stairs. "You're a bit of a brat, really, and maybe one of the other Mistresses would be more agreea-"

She reared back with surprising force, caught him in the ribs with an elbow, hard enough to wind him. He snarled, pulled her down to the floor. She twisted in his grip like a cat, bit the side of his neck as he forced her against the stone and entered her, fast and rough, heard her yelp. She hurled herself up against him, forced him onto his back, flushed and triumphant, pushing him deeper into her. He flipped her over with a snarl, and she gasped as they rolled across the floor, collided with the harp in the corner with a discordant crash.

"Oh, shit." Kelda covered her mouth. "Oops."

She stared up at him, looking so shocked that he had to laugh. She grinned back.

"Quaver's not going to be happy," she said.

"Let's just never tell him how we broke it."

He picked her up from the wreckage, felt her shudder, pushed her up against the wall. He felt her trembling as he thrust into her again, fingers digging into her pale thighs. He loved the way she felt when she was gasping under him, the way she was fighting him at every step.

He felt her thighs bunch, and she pushed away from the wall, trying to break free, only succeeded in forcing herself further onto his cock. She hissed, a low noise of pleasure, wrapped her legs around him again. She tangled a hand in his hair, twisting, clawed at his shoulder.

"Harder," she gasped. "Oh gods, yes, harder!"

She was moaning, harsh sounds that hardly sounded human, sounds of pain and fierce pleasure that only drove him on. He thrust against her, the rough stone wall scraping at her back through her dress. She was going to be black and blue after this, she thought deliriously, but at the moment, she couldn't care. She couldn't break free, not even if she'd wanted to. She struggled against his grasp, heart pounding, grinding herself against him, muscles tensing as she came in a rush.

She felt so _good_, when she came, the motion of her cunt tensing around his cock, almost hard enough to push him over with her. He dragged her down to the ground with a growl, rolled over on top of her. He had her wrists again, pinned above her head on the floor. His weight was driving into her, slamming her back against the stone with every thrust. She struggled against his strength, pulling uselessly against his grip. His grip tightened, harder still, twisting her wrists. She gasped, body arcing up beneath his, helpless. The sight of her beneath him, all white skin and wild hair and fresh bruises, was enough to set him off. She felt him come in a hot rush inside her, crying out as he filled her, pushing her hips up against his.

He stayed inside her for a long moment, looking down at her. She grinned back, looking dazed.

"Fine, the bloody elf can stay," she said at last, still sounding out of breath. "Hells, have Juno, have a dozen Mistresses, I don't care. Just so long as you keep tumbling me like that-"

He kissed her, black blood leaking from a split lip. She returned the kiss, reveling in the strange coppery taste, the subtle electric crackle of magic over her tongue. He pulled away far too soon, buckled his trousers, adjusting the black armor.

"Do you have to go?" she asked him, as she tried and failed to smooth her skirts.

"I've got a few things to take care of before we move against the Empire. Some loose ends I need to cut."

She rose on tiptoe and kissed him again.

"Be careful, love."

"Be good while I'm gone."

Her eyes flashed, wicked.

"That's rich, coming from you. I'm your _Mistress_, remember? I don't _do_ good."

"What I meant was, don't kill the other two while I'm out. I'm going out to wage a war, I don't want to come home to another one."

"Can I torture them a little?"

He gave her a wry look, and she grinned back.

"Only joking, love. Mostly."

She handed him the helmet, kissed him quickly, impulsive. He picked up his axe and grinned down at her, ruffled her hair and strode away through the portal.

-x-

She'd been so sure that she'd known him.

Fay paced in her new quarters, angry. She'd touched his _mind_, she thought. Her magic and his had twined together as he'd drained her, as he'd broken her, even as he'd made her whole. They had known each other, for one bright, white-hot instant. She had looked around her with newborn eyes, had seen how empty the pleasures of the Sanctuary really were.

Surely, if there had ever been a Mother Goddess, if she had ever been listening, she would have intervened before things had come to this.

"Hey."

The busty human knocked at the door, poking her elaborately coiffed head in. Fay gave her a chilly look. The woman was Empire, quite obviously. She was wearing enough paint for a circus performer, and entirely too much perfume.

"Can I help you?" she asked coldly, drawing herself up to her full height.

"Just wanted to see if you needed any help getting settled." The woman looked around. "Don't you have, like, any luggage?"

"I left my old things with my old life, back in the Sanctuary. I am a new woman, now."

"If you say so," the other woman said dubiously. "Anyhow. I'm Juno. And you've already met Kelda, unfortunately."

"Yes, the slovenly little peasant." Fay arched an eyebrow. "I thought she was a servant."

"So did I! The way she dresses, it's just...ugh! At least _you_ have a sense of style."

"I thought a classic look was best."

They stared at one another for a moment, evaluating. At last, Juno gestured to her.

"Come on. I'll show you around."

With nothing better to do, she followed the Imperial woman.

She heard a low snarl and a yelp from the throne room. Juno stopped short, her shoulders set.

"Ugh," she snapped. "Unbelievable."

Fay could hear it now, too, low, harsh noises that sounded almost like animals coupling. She swallowed, going even paler, as she heard something splinter below.

"Do they do this often?" She asked weakly.

"Well, fucking out in the open like a couple of dogs...that's a new low, even for _her_."

Fay heard a low growl, the sound of what almost sounded like a sharp slap, a moan. She suddenly found herself wondering what she'd gotten herself into. For a moment, she was afraid.

She didn't care, she thought suddenly, straightening. Whatever he decided to do to her, she had earned it, with the blood of her people. She'd made her choice, the moment she'd given her shrines to him. And whatever he was, whatever he wanted...she didn't care, so long as she could feel that terrible power crackling through her again.

"He'll get tired of her soon enough," Juno muttered. "Just try to ignore it. _Anyhow_. This is the private quarters, currently rather tacky, I'm afraid, as the Master's let Kelda throw her greasy little furs about." She kicked at a rug. "I _tried_ to redecorate a bit, but that awful peasant tore down everything I hung up and threatened to burn it! Some people just have no taste."

"What's though there?" Fay asked, nodded towards a heavy red curtain.

"Oh." Juno looked a bit sulky. "The Master sleeps in there. With that peasant girl. Because barbarians have no concept of privacy, apparently."

Another low growl from below. Juno winced.

"Us second fiddles have to stick together, don't we?" She linked her arm through Fay's again. "Come on, I'll bet you could use a bath."

Fay glanced at her, eyes narrowed. Was that an insult? Juno seemed oblivious, red lips in a perfect pout. She'd had decades of experience with court intrigue, though, and she was beginning to suspect that Juno wasn't quite as stupid as she put on.

"Ah, here we go." Juno sighed happily, letting her hair down. "The baths. Probably the best thing about this hellhole."

She stripped off her toga without a hint of shame, slipped into the water. Fay looked down at her, then closed her eyes, letting her will settle like a mantle over her shoulders, stripping her down to her skin, leaving her dress neatly folded beneath her corset. She slid into the warm spring, trying not to pant- the magic had taken far more out of her than it ever had before. But she saw with satisfaction that the other woman was watching her, eyes wide, more than a little wary.

"That's a handy trick," Juno said, recovering. "It must make you very popular at parties."

Fay opened her mouth to retort, saw Juno scowl, focused on something behind her. She turned. The peasant girl had staggered into the baths, holding the remains of her dress up over her breast. She didn't seem to notice them for a moment, humming to herself, smiling absent-mindedly. She stopped short at the edge of the pool, seeing them. She flushed, and for a moment it looked as though she would turn around and leave. Fay watched her, waiting to see what she would do. The girl almost visibly gathered her courage and pulled off her clothes, slipped into the bath, studiously ignoring them.

"Oh, and the water was so nice and clean just a second ago," Juno sighed.

"You can leave," the girl snapped tightly.

"Good idea. I don't want to spend the next few days smelling _common_."

"The way you splash that perfume about, I'm surprised you can smell anything else."

"You should try it some day, peasant. Do the rest of us a favor."

The girl was studiously ignoring her. Juno smiled, toweling herself off.

"You know, it's funny. Back in Empire City, they called _me_ a whore. What do you think they'd call _you?_"

Fay was surprised to hear the girl actually snarl then, like some kind of snow cat. Her muscles bunched, and for a moment it looked as though she'd launch herself out of the bath at the other woman. Juno just laughed.

"Try it, sweetheart." She glanced at Fay, pulling on her toga. "Here's a little secret. She can't hurt us. If she does, her 'witch boy' will be just _furious_ with her. And then maybe she wouldn't be First Mistress anymore. Maybe she wouldn't even be a Mistress at all."

"Don't you call him that!" Kelda spat.

"What, 'witch boy'?" Juno purred. "I think it quite suits him, don't you?"

Kelda mastered herself with visible effort, turned her back on the other woman and ducked under the water. Juno smiled at Fay.

"Pity," she said. "I almost thought I had her."

She waltzed away. The girl poked her head out of the water, glaring after her, raked her glare over Fay.

"What are you looking at?" She demanded.

"What did she mean, 'witch boy'?" Fay asked her.

"Oh." The peasant scrubbed at her hair. "That. It's what they always called him in Nordberg. The Overlord."

"It doesn't sound particularly nice."

The girl smirked.

"_He's_ not particularly nice. But it's the only name I've ever known him by, anyhow. Since we were little."

Fay gave her a look, reappraising her. She'd wondered why a creature like the Scourge had taken a scruffy little serf as a Mistress, but now it seemed that they'd been childhood...

She wasn't sure if 'friends' was the right word. The other woman's back was covered in scratches and purpling bruises, and there were what were quite clearly some vicious bite marks on her shoulders. From the noises she'd heard earlier, too, she almost wondered if the Scourge hated the peasant girl and her demeaning little nickname.

"Did he do that?" Fay asked her.

The girl gave her a sidelong glance.

"Having second thoughts, fairy?"

"I- no, of course not." Fay stared at the marks, fascinated. "Why would he-"

"'Cos I wanted him to, of course." The girl gave her a cheeky smile. "I'm Nordbergian, fairy. We northerners aren't quite as soft and pampered as elves or the Empire."

"The elves are hardly pampered. Hunted by the Empire, persecuted wherever we go-"

"Oh, boohoo." The peasant girl pursed her lips. "Have you ever been hungry, elf? Like, truly, really hungry, starving, even?"

"I-"

"Have you ever been hurt so badly you thought you might die, out alone on the ice?"

"I haven't-"

The girl was suddenly inches away from her, grinning fiercely.

"Have you ever been somebody's slave, then?"

Fay bristled.

"Don't presume that you know me, peasant."

"Why are you here, fairy?"

"The Dark One showed me the true path. He has remade me. I would follow him anywhere."

"Huh." The girl stared at her, eyes hard. "You'd better mean every last word of that. Because I don't care who you are or what you can do to me. If you _ever_ try to do _anything_ to hurt him, I'll skin you alive. I'll give you my word as a hunter on that."

Fay stared at her, surprised. The fierce, sharp-elbowed little thing was in love with the Scourge, she realized. How very strange- one may as well be in love with a tempest, or a forest fire.

"I couldn't hurt him if I tried, child. Do you even know how very _strong_ he is? How _powerful_?"

"That wasn't what I meant." Kelda pulled herself out of the baths, drying her hair. "Everybody who comes here, they all just _want_ something out of him. You, Juno, all the rest...you all seem to forget there's someone underneath all that armor. Someone who I happen to care about quite a lot, in fact." She pulled on her dress, gave her a hard look. "So watch your step, fairy, because _I'll_ be watching you."


	18. Chapter 18

The Emperor was raging. The attack on the Last Sanctuary had not gone as planned. Queen Fay had escaped, and, more importantly, so had the barbarian.

Marius could hear things shattering from down the hall. He hurried to Solarius' chambers, caught the arm of a pretty slave boy as he tried to scurry out the gilded doors.

"Trying to run, slave? Why aren't you with your Emperor?"

"Please, my lord, he's in a fury!" the young man cried. Up close, Marius could see his face was bruised and bleeding. "I'm afraid he'll kill me, sir!"

"You'd prefer to take your chances in the Arena, then?"

"I..." The slave shuddered. "No, sir."

"Good. Open the door."

The slave peered warily into the darkened chambers.

"Emperor Solarius?" he said uncertainly.

A vase hit the wall, just missing his head. He pulled back with a squeak.

"Master, Lord Marius is here to see you!" The slave risked another peek into the chambers. "May- may we come in, sire?"

Candles bloomed, sparking to life, and the Emperor beckoned to him, imperious, lounging on a couch. The slave crept nervously to his side, crouched beside him, looked ready to bolt. The Emperor reached out, tangled long fingers in his hair, and the slave started, held himself still with an effort of will.

"The Emperor regrets his previous wrath with you, slave," Marius said. "You have served him well."

The Glorious Emperor inclined his head, golden mask gleaming. The slave shivered. His ruler was a god among men, and no ordinary man could hear his voice and live. Sometimes, he almost wished that the Emperor would speak to him.

"Go, now," Marius commanded him.

The Emperor released him abruptly, shoved him away with a force that sent him sprawling. He struggled to his feet and fled from the chambers as quickly as he dared, the door slamming closed behind him.

Marius watched him go, frowning.

"Good help is hard to find these days, my Lord" he admonished. "I'd rather not have to clean up after another dead slave boy. It seems to upset the others."

"That was _one_ time," Florian snapped, annoyed, slipping off the mask. "It was an accident, anyways. How was I to know the slave was _that_ allergic to grapes?"

"He _was_ screaming and writhing a bit, my Lord, as I recall."

"I just thought he was particularly...enthusiastic."

"He was also turning blue, sire."

"Oh, well, mistakes were made," Florian said idly, fiddling with the mask. "What did you come up here to bother me about this time?"

"Well, my Lord..."Marius hesitated, looking at the broken crockery.

"Spit it out, Marius, I haven't got all day!"

"Ah...well...the good news, my Lord, is that we've recaptured several of our escaped slaves."

"And the bad news?"

"We captured them while they were in the process of looting one of the armories, Sire, and, well...most of them managed to get away."

"Damn it," Florian hissed.

"It...it gets worse, my Lord. The armory they hit...well...it was where we stored most of our ballistas, and it was where we've been sending our catapults for repairs. They managed to burn them all before we drove them back. We only have a few catapults left, now."

"Build more, then," Florian snapped.

"There may not be enough time, Sire." Marius hesitated again. "Our sources indicate that the barbarian horde is consolidating, in the north. The Demon Lord's army is growing. I believe he means to move against us soon."

"Shit," Florian snapped, reached for a pitcher of wine. "I should have killed that little bastard years ago, when I had the chance."

He tipped the pitcher back, not even bothering with a glass, and Marius winced.

"I'm afraid I have more bad news, my Lord." He hesitated, fearing the Emperor's wrath. "It seems that somebody snuck poison into the Gargantuans' feed. We've lost half of them, and many more of them are still quite sick. They're at a quarter strength."

"Poison...then Rose is behind this, for sure. She's behind that attack on the armory, too, I'll bet." Florian wiped his mouth, scowling. "She wants to give her bastard my throne. I'll see her dead before I let that happen. I'll tear down the whole city, rather than let him have it."

"Ah...Hopefully it won't come to that, my lord."

"What about our magic reserves?"

"Even with what we've taken from the Last Sanctuary, my Lord...I'm afraid it isn't enough."

"Shit," Florian said again, flung the pitcher away, irritable. Marius flinched as it shattered. "Well, you're supposed to be my adviser, damn you, so advise me!"

"I would call all our forces back to Empire City, my Lord. The anti-magic shield is strong, and I'm certain the barbarian can't break through. But we must defend the farmlands around the City, or else he'll be able to lay siege to us and starve us out."

"Fine, fine," Florian said absently. "Do that. And, more importantly, find Rose. You're her fucking husband, you're supposed to keep her in line. Don't fail me again."

Marius swallowed.

" My agents are extracting information from the captured slaves as we speak. I can assure you, I won't disappoint you, my Lord."

"Good." Florian gave him an icy smile, slipped the mask over his narrow-featured face. "You'd better not, Marius. After all, the Emperor can always find another Voice."

-x-

"Lady Rose!"

She was deep in conference with the leaders of the rebel slaves-Mara, a tough, one-eyed woman, and Janus, a scrawny little man with a surprisingly good grasp of tactics. She looked up at the sound of her name, frowning at the interruption.

"Yes?" she asked.

A pair of burly rebels hurled a slender boy at her feet.

"Palace slave," one of them snapped. "Claims he wants to join us. What do you think we should do with him?"

"He's a spy," the one-eyed woman snapped. "Marius must have sent him."

"No, please!" the boy cried. "I heard there were escaped slaves out fighting the Empire. I want to join you."

"Huh." Mara prodded him with the butt of her spear. "All you palace slaves are soft and pampered. You can't fight. You're no good to us."

"I can learn!" the young man cried, sounding as if he was on the verge of tears.

Rose and Janus exchanged a glance.

"Hold on," she said softly.

She came closer, inspecting the boy. His face was bruised and bleeding, and she could see some ugly-looking marks beneath the thin fabric of his toga. His neck, she realized with surprise, bore the personal brand of Emperor Solarius.

"Did you hurt him?" she demanded, glaring up at one of the rebel soldiers.

"Hey, no, ma'am," the soldier said defensively. "He was like that when we found him."

"Hmm." Rose gave the one-eyed woman a scornful look. "Really, Mara, does he look all that pampered to you?" She offered the boy a hand. "A palace slave would be very useful. He can go places the rest of us can't."

Mara shrugged.

"It's on your head, Lady Rose."

"I have a job in mind for him already," Rose said. "What's your name?"

"Tibus, my lady."

"Does the palace know you've run away?"

"No, my lady. I didn't tell anyone. I just..." he shuddered. "I had to get out of there. I think the Emperor's gone a little mad, my lady. He flies into furious rages, and I...I was frightened. I thought he was going to kill me."

"I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to go back," Rose told him. "Just for a little while."

"Do I have to, ma'am?"

"If you really want to help us, then, yes, I'm sorry."

"What do you want me to do?" he asked her, sounding frightened.

"Solarius and Marius will be drawing up battle plans for their defense against the barbarian hordes," she said. "Tell me, can you read?"

"Yes, my lady."

"Good. I want you to stay close to Solarius until you find those plans. Memorize them, and come back here. We'll have someone find you to bring you to me."

"Okay," he said at last. "Alright. If it will hurt the Emperor, then yes, I'll do it."

"Very good." Rose nodded to the soldiers. "Take him away and give him something to eat before he goes. Good luck, Tibus."

She turned back to the rebel leaders.

"Now," she said. "Where were we?"

"Lady Rose, are you sure it's wise, sending the boy in like that?" Janus asked her. "What if he's captured?"

She shrugged.

"Then Marius will have him tortured and sent to the Arena. If he succeeds, he'll bring us invaluable information. What does it matter? We'll be leaving this safe house for another in just a few days."

"You're..." Janus hesitated. "You're rather cold, my lady, if you don't mind me saying so."

"In this business, you have to be," she snapped. "Mara. How did the attack on the armory go?"

"It was smashing success," Mara said proudly. "We burned most of the Empire's siege weapons, we managed to seize weapons of our own, and only lost a few of our men."

"Dead, or captured?" Rose asked her.

Mara shrugged.

"What does it matter?"

"If they've been captured, then Marius will have them tortured."

"My men won't break!" she protested.

Rose smiled, grim.

"Oh, no, my dear. I promise you, they always break. We'll move our base tonight, just in case."

"My girl managed to sneak the poison into the Gargantuan pens, just like you told her to," Janus said proudly. "Nobody saw her. She's sure of it."

"Excellent." Rose looked down at a map, moving a pin. "My agents tell me that the barbarians are gathering their forces in the North. And, surprisingly, it looks like the elves have joined them. I don't think it will be long before they move against the Emperor."

"Against the Emperor, or against the Empire?" Janus asked her dubiously. "I've heard some awful things about this Demon Lord, my lady."

"I can handle him," Rose said, with more assurance than she felt.

The pair stared at her.

"If you say so," Mara said uncertainly.

"I know I can." Rose hesitated. "I...I used to know him. Quite well, I think."

The pair exchanged a knowing glance.

"Ah," Mara said sagely. "You were lovers, were you?"

Rose almost choked.

"What?" she gasped, and coughed, laughing. "Oh, oh no. Most definitely not. If you must know, I'm...well. I'm his mother."

She'd played her cards so close to her chest for so long, it was difficult for her to say. The other two gaped at her, shocked.

"So that would make Marius-" Janus began.

Rose laughed again.

"Oh, please. Do you really think Marius could have a son like _that_? No, his father was..."

She trailed off, her heart aching. The old grief never got any lighter, and every morning she woke missing the warmth of his body beside her. Poor, scrawny, ridiculous Marius could never have measured up. She shook herself, forcing herself to return to the matter at hand.

"Regardless. Don't concern yourselves with the barbarian lord. He'll listen to me. I know he will."

"I hope you're right, my lady."

-x-

Juno heard the peasant girl's squeal from all the way across the private quarters. She winced, arranging her hair.

"What is it now?" she wondered aloud.

"Witch boy!" she heard the peasant shout, and then there was the sound of a body hitting armor and some rather sloppy kissing. Juno made a face. The girl was so bloody _uncouth,_ she thought.

She picked up the spider stone and surveyed herself in the mirror. She tweaked her toga minutely lower and smiled at herself, tucking a curl back into place.

_Perfect_.

She glided into the main chambers, knew that every step pulled her toga taut against her hips. The peasant girl was clinging to the Master as if she meant to claim him.

"Welcome home, my Lord," Juno purred, arranged herself artfully next to the fountain.

He unbuckled his helmet and tossed it to a minion. His dark hair was damp with sweat, and Juno made a face. The peasant didn't seem to care, twining her arms up around his neck and pressing herself against him. Juno smirked. She'd never seen such a transparent display, she thought, and _she'd_ grown up in a brothel.

"Gods, I need a bath," he said. "I'm covered in elf bits."

Fay, drifting into the room, stopped short. Juno saw their eyes meet, and for an instant she wondered if there would be some sort of confrontation. Then the elf woman smiled, hard.

"Good," she said. "I hope you've stamped out that silly 'free love' nonsense once and for all. I must apologize, my Lord. I would have thought that all of the elves would have obeyed my decree when I made you their ruler, but it seems that was not the case."

"Guess you weren't as good a Queen as you thought," Kelda sniped.

"I found out I'm not a very good Queen at all," Fay said, gave the Overlord a wicked little smile.

The peasant girl made an irritated noise, tugged at his arm.

"Come on, witch boy, let's get you cleaned up."

"Hold on." Juno rose, holding the stone. "Master, I have a...proposition for you."

He watched her as she walked closer, enjoying the way her body moved beneath the toga.

"Kelda doesn't deserve you," she purred. "And you deserve much better than her. I can give it to you, if you make me First Mistress...and let me share your bed. You _know_ what I can do." She looked around, smirking. "I can redecorate, too. Bring a little class into the Netherworld."

"Juno, we've been over this," he said, sounding weary.

"There's something else, my Lord." She held the stone up as it pulsed and beat like a living heart. "I picked up a little something in Everlight. Make me First Mistress, and I'll make sure you have those little spidery greens for your attack on Empire City."

She saw him hesitate, saw the way his eyes settled on the stone, and she smiled, triumphant. Kelda snarled.

"Oh, you want to play rough, Empire?"

Massive spiders crept down the walls, hissing, crouched at Juno's feet. She arced a brow.

"I think they quite fit the decor, Master. What do you think?"

She heard a low growl, and suddenly grey bodies boiled up the stairs as the wolves formed a phalanx around Kelda. She bared her teeth.

"If it's a fight you want, Empire, then we can give it to you!"

Juno's eyes widened, flicking over the wolves. She recovered quickly, laid a hand on her breast.

"Oh, please, sweetheart. My spiders could wrap your little puppies up in a heartbeat. Don't make this hard on yourself."

Fay yawned and pulled herself up to sit on the fountain. They turned to look at her, wary.

"I could offer you Salamanders, Dark One, if you make me your First Mistress," she said, examining her nails. "They're far more powerful than wolves _or_ spiders."

"Then go ahead, call them up here," Kelda snapped. "I could use a good fight!"

"Enough."

The Overlord said the word quietly, with a low, deadly intensity. They fell silent, looking at him. He reached out and plucked the stone from Juno's hands.

"Hey!"

"I like my quarters the way they are," he said calmly. "I don't want them redecorated, and I also don't want them burned down in some kind of stupid pissing contest, Kelda, is that clear?"

She huffed, folding her arms, but she nodded.

"Juno." He turned the stone over in his hands, curious. "Where did you find this?"

"In Everlight. With some kind of creepy spider cult." She pouted. "Can I have it back?"

"Once Gnarl takes a look at it. Magic artifacts tend to come with a price, and I want to be sure this one's not doing something nasty to you."

"T'would be a real shame," Kelda said, straight-faced.

"Kelda," he growled.

"Sorry," she said, looking anything but.

"It's been a very long day," he said. "I've been shot at, and all sorts of people have tried to stick me with pointy things. I'm not in the mood for petty squabbles."

Juno pouted.

"My apologies, Master. I only wanted to better serve you."

Kelda rolled her eyes at that. He gave her a sharp look, and she scowled, looking away.

"Sorry, oh Dark One," she said sarcastically.

He glanced at Fay. The elf woman merely shrugged, content to let the commoners fight among themselves.

"And now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go wash the blood off."

He strode away, looking thunderous. Kelda started after him, hesitated. Instead, she knelt by a wolf, burying her face in its fur. Juno made a speculative noise.

"Don't even think about it, Empire." Kelda snapped, her voice muffled by the fur. "He doesn't want us around right now."

Juno pouted.

"You never let me have any fun," she muttered, stalking off to her quarters. She had a pedicure that was long overdue.

Kelda heard the rustle of fabric, a warning growl from her wolves. She glared up at the elf woman.

"What do you want now, fairy?"

Fay stared down at her, curious, pale eyes flicking over the wolves.

"How are you...doing that?" she asked. "The Imperial woman had an artifact. You don't."

"I just...call them." Kelda shrugged. "They listen to me. They come to me when I need them."

"But...how?"

"I don't know."

"Hmm." The elf woman tilted her head, birdlike. "Who were your parents, peasant girl?"

"My dad was a hunter, back in Nordberg," Kelda said warily. "I never knew my mother. She died when I was born."

"Hmm," the elf woman said again, drifted away.

Kelda looked at the wolf. Yellow eyes stared back at her.

"That was...strange," she said.

The wolf bumped her shoulder with its muzzle, whining. She rubbed its ears absent-mindedly.

"Yes, you're right," she said. "I can't sit around like this all day. Let's go explore those dwarven ruins, why don't we?"


	19. Chapter 19 (NSFW)

Fay was surprised to find that she was, after some reflection, lonely.

She had spent her life, after all, surrounded by all sorts of magical creatures. If she'd ever wanted to talk to anyone, all she had to do was find the nearest tree and call for a dryad. In the Sanctuaries, she'd been surrounded by the living magic of her realm. Here, she was surrounded by cold, dead stone.

The little creatures that infested the Scourge's realm were poor company. They seemed more than a little wary of her, skittering off around corners whenever she caught them leering at her. They didn't seem smart enough to have a decent conversation with, in any case.

The other Mistresses weren't much of an improvement. The peasant girl, Kelda, was at the very least openly hostile. Juno, the Imperial, was polished and poisonous, with a smile that hinted at daggers in the dark. Fay had been dismayed to find that the Scourge had taken other mistresses before her, and the other two had done little enough to make her feel welcome.

And as for the Scourge himself...aside from their earlier altercation, he'd hardly spoken to her. She hadn't even seen his face, she realized. For the Goddess' sake, she didn't even know if he was elvish, or human, or something else altogether.

She didn't like being left alone with her thoughts. She had too many bad memories, and it was too easy for the black bird to find her here, to spread wings heavy with guilt and despair.

Troubled, she wandered through the Netherworld. None of the Scourge's little goblins tried to stop her, though she could sense yellow eyes on her back as she drifted past. She passed lava flowing through living stone, and great, strange statues that seemed to watch her. She walked over floating platforms and suspended bridges, her reflection staring back at her from vast crystals, looking lost and lonely.

The air began to grow hot. She could smell hot metal and oil. She heard the gibber of minions from up ahead, and then, a deeper bass rumble as the Scourge said something in reply. She drifted closer. She wasn't sure what she would say to him, she thought, but she needed to do _something_, lest she linger like a ghost below the earth for the rest of her days.

"Master, what you _do_ to this?" she heard one of the little goblins cry. "What do _this_?"

"Oh. That was from a Spider Queen. She almost got through the steel!"

"Oh, Master. Giblet not sure if can fix this."

"Are you sure?" The Scourge sounded disappointed. "That armor has a lot of character."

"Don't worry, Master. We make new armor! Better armor! Spikier armor!"

She could hear the clang of hammers, the rush of bellows. It was infernally hot. Even she was beginning to sweat. Fay glided into the heart of the forge, curious.

"Master."

A minion tugged at his pant leg. He turned, set a great hammer down with grunt.

"Fay?" He frowned. "Are you looking for something?"

She found herself staring. He was stripped to the waist in the heat of the forge. Dark, unruly hair framed a sharp-angled face, delicate patterns tracing their way over high cheekbones. He wasn't half bad, she thought, in a hard-featured, feral sort of way.

"I think I might have found it," she said faintly.

"Ha." He said dryly, picked up the hammer again.

She drifted closer.

"What are you doing?"

"Working."

"Well, yes, I can see that, but on what?"

"Armor," he said tightly.

He swung the vast hammer, hit steel with a clang that made her wince. The minions joined him, hammering mostly in sync with him, though some didn't manage to get out of the way of his swings in time. He didn't much seem to care.

"A breastplate?" she asked him, making conversation. "What's it made of?"

He ignored her, shaping the red-hot metal. A helmeted minion darted about around his legs, shaping and crimping the steel, muttering under his breath. The Overlord stopped at last, straightened, staring at her.

"Fay," He said, at last, his voice clipped. He tossed the hammer aside, and one of his little goblins caught it, collapsing under its weight. "Why are you here?"

"I thought I'd explore a bit. If I'm going to be staying here awhile, I might as well get to know it." She stepped closer, laid a slender hand on his arm. "And I might as well get to know _you_."

To her surprise, the Scourge of Nature, the Demon Lord of Nordberg, the Master of the Netherworld, took a step back, rallied visibly.

"You know what I meant," he said.

"I want to learn from you," she said, breathless. "You've opened my eyes, Dark One...and there's so much more I'd like to see."

He just gave her a rather dubious look, then turned away, ignoring her. Fay bristled a bit. She wasn't used to that.

"See what you can do with the armor, Giblet. And put an edge on my axe."

He strode away without giving her a second glance. Fay hurried after him, feeling rather undignified. She hopped onto the platform next to him, frowning.

"Have I done something to displease you, my Lord?"

"No."

"Then why do you treat me like this? All I want is to serve you, Dark One."

He jumped down from the platform before it even came to a stop, offered her a hand. She took it, feeling off-balance. One moment he was ignoring her, she thought, and the next, he was as courteous as a prince.

"I don't know what you mean," he said coolly.

"When our magic was joined...that was incredible." Fay shivered. "I felt like we were one. You are...amazing, my Lord. But now..."

She trailed off, following him to the private quarters.

"Now, you treat me with indifference, and...and you squander your affections on- on peasants!"

"Ah. So that's what this is about."

She caught his arm.

"Please, my Lord, tell me why you are so cold to me!"

"I don't know you," the Scourge said calmly. "And I don't trust you."

Fay stopped short, more than a little shocked.

"But, Dark One, I have given up everything for you!"

"I've drained you of all but the last dregs of your magic. I destroyed your Sanctuaries, and I conquered your people." He gave her a hard smile. "Forgive me if I find your motives suspect."

"Suspect?" She drew closer, staring up at him. "My Lord, you have touched my mind. You know me...intimately."

"I touched the mind of a very clever, very troubled Queen, with decades of experience in intrigue and court politics." He gestured. "You'll notice we have none of that here. Minions are too stupid to dissemble."

"Is there anything I can do to convince you?" Fay asked him. "Touch my mind again, Dark One. Let me show you."

"That could kill you," he said. He did not sounding terribly distressed at the notion.

"I don't care," Fay whispered, voice hoarse with a hunger she could not name.

She felt his will settle over her mind, an iron crown, lightning crackling through her soul. She gasped, stumbled against him, body pressed against his. His skin was warm as Salamander scales, warmer than blood. She gazed up at him, rapt and desperate, felt his arms settle around her waist. If he let her go, she thought despairingly, she felt as though she would be swept away and dashed into a thousand pieces.

"Come with me, Dark One," she begged him. "Let me show you the depths of my devotion."

He released her suddenly, and she swayed, regaining her balance, recovering her composure.

"Please, my Lord."

She led him to her chambers. He'd touched her mind, she thought. He knew what she wanted. She reached out with a gesture of will, stripping off her finery, stood naked before him, clad only in the shifting light of her aura. She reached out, surprised at her own boldness, grabbed him by the belt and pulled him closer.

"You want to get me alone and unarmed, then?" he asked her, amused.

Still, she felt the heat of his gaze as it moved over her skin.

"If you have doubts about my loyalty, my Lord, then put me to the test," she said eagerly, trying not to fumble as she undid the belt. It had been so long since she'd taken a lover. "If you think I wish to harm you- though be assured that I would not, even if I could- then bind me."

A look of surprise flitted over his hard features, and then he smiled, cold.

"Good idea."

His power lashed out, and suddenly she was leashed to him again. The strength of it settled on her slender shoulders.

"On your knees," he commanded her.

Fay knelt, felt magic crackling, electric, over her wrists, binding them behind her back. She gasped, staring up at him, fear and adoration mingling in her eyes. He grabbed her hair, pulling her head back, met her eyes with his own bright, cruel gaze.

"Are you so sure that this is what you want?" he growled.

To her surprise, she could feel herself growing wet. She shivered.

"Yes, my Lord."

He pulled down his trousers, and her eyes widened a bit- she couldn't help it. He grinned at the reaction, pulled her to him by her hair. She struggled to him, on her knees, knelt at the edge of the bed and took his cock into her mouth.

His hand tangled in her hair, guiding her, using her. She could feel his magic crackling over her, like iron claws around her mind, knew that he could kill her in an instant if he wanted to. She felt fear shiver through her skin, and for the first time in decades, she felt truly alive.

He pulled her head down further, and she gagged, trying to pull back. She heard him laugh, amused at her distress, and then he let her go. She felt the bonds around her wrists dissipate, wiped her mouth. He beckoned to her.

"Come here."

She went, pulling herself onto his lap, eager. He smiled, cold, and tossed her brusquely onto the bed.

"No, not like that."

Magic lashed out again, licked around her wrists, her ankles, stretched her out spread-eagled on the bed. His gaze took her in, moving slowly over her naked body as his power held her open for him, and she felt herself flush, tugged fruitlessly at her bonds. He watched her struggle, smiling.

"You have no idea what I am, Fay," he said. He traced a hand up a white, slender thigh. "You don't know the kinds of things I want to do to you. Do you still think you want this?"

"I would ask the Goddess to forgive me, if I thought she would listen." Fay whispered, breathless. She shuddered, leaning into his touch. "Yes."

He was toying with her, now, fingers sliding up her thighs, teasing at her sex. She gasped and arced her hips to him, rubbed against him like a cat as he stroked her swollen clit. His hand reached out, tore her hair free from its careful coifs, sent it tumbling over the sheets. She strained towards him, mouth seeking his, and he pulled away with another chilly smile. Fay could hear herself panting, and she stared up at him through her hair, her body aching, needing him.

"Please, don't stop," she begged.

He was examining her as though she was some strange and deadly creature, hands leaving lines of fire on her hips, her breasts, her throat. He traced her ears, curious, trailed his fingers down the curve of her jaw, strength behind his touch, and she realized how easy it would be for him to break her. She shivered, closing her eyes.

"Are you afraid of me, Fay?" she heard him ask.

"Should I be?" she whispered.

"Oh, yes." She felt his weight shift, her only warning. "I would tell you that I won't hurt you...but that would be a lie."

He thrust into her suddenly, shockingly, painfully fast, as her bonds tightened, pulled her tauter. She cried out, blood singing, writhing as she strained against the magic that held her fast. She was alone, she thought, the Queen of a broken people, miles beneath the ground, with a creature who had her at his mercy...and he seemed to have little enough of that.

And, Goddess help her, there was a part of her that reveled in it. Her shoulders were aching, her hips were burning, and with every thrust she felt like he was going to tear her in two, but a dark, twisted part of her embraced it, exalting. Her will rose to meet his, magic twining, his power enveloping what little magic she had left. His magic seared her wrists, her ankles, sending shudders coursing through her body. It was like making love to a thunderstorm, to an avalanche, something she wouldn't have stopped, even if she could have.

He pulled out of her, as abruptly as he'd begun, and Fay gasped, disappointed.

"No!" she cried. "Don't stop!"

He grabbed her hair, pulled her head to one side and bit her neck, hard enough to make her yelp, and she felt his displeasure through the link between them, realizing her error.

"You are no longer a Queen, Fay," he hissed, nipped her ear. "This is _my_ realm."

He released her bonds, and she rubbed at her wrists, staring up at him, cheeks flushed. He flipped her over onto her stomach, pulled her hips up. Magic bound her, again, wrists to ankles, her cheek pressed against the bed. He entered her, slower this time, and she moaned, pushing her hips back against him. He pushed deeper into her, faster, rougher, and Fay cried out, her voice muffled against the sheets, abandoning any last pretense of dignity as she came, bucking against the bonds that held her.

He pulled out of her again, gazing down at the degraded Queen beneath him. She was still shuddering, her narrow, pretty face raptured, eyes closed. She was so fragile, in every sense of the word, for all her poise and artifice. He still had a hold on her will, felt the moment when she surrendered completely to him. And still, he wanted nothing more than to break her, to debase her further.

She felt his hands slide over the curve of her ass, speculative. She looked back at him, questioning, her power still linked with his, took a sharp breath as she realized what he wanted to do to her. She felt her heart beat faster, was shocked to feel the way her body was responding.

"Still, even now?" he asked her, sounding amused.

"My will is yours, my Lord," she gasped. "Do as you like." She hesitated, self-preservation winning over her lust. "Although...there is oil in the dresser."

"I'm not _completely_ new at this," he snapped, sounding annoyed.

She looked back at him, confused. The peasant girl had said she'd known him when they were children, which would mean-

She felt oil trickling over the small of her back, warming to her skin, and her thoughts scattered like a flock of birds. His hands moved lower, slick, and then she stiffened as she felt him enter her in a way she'd never been entered before.

"Oh, Goddess," she whimpered, hands tightening into fists as he filled her.

He stayed like that for a long moment, sheathed to the hilt inside of her, and she felt him kiss the back of her neck. She felt something inside her start to melt, heard herself moan. He began to thrust against her, long, slow strokes that surprised her after his earlier violence, quickening his pace as she gasped, her nails digging into her palms. She'd never felt so debauched, she thought despairingly- none of her other lovers would have ever dared to use her the way he was using her now.

She heard him growl, low in his throat, felt him come, hot and pulsing, her bonds vanishing, freeing her. He withdrew from her, slowly, and then to her eternal surprise he pulled her close and held her. She could feel his magic moving through hers, suddenly gentle, and to her further surprise she realized that he was looking her over, making sure that she was intact. She felt his power leave her, then, made a little sound of disappointment. She turned in his arms, lifted her face to his. This time, he didn't pull away from her kiss.

"That was alright?" he asked her anxiously, suddenly sounding very young.

"I...yes, Dark One. Yes."

"You're crying."

Her cheeks were wet, she realized, astonished.

"Oh. So I am."

"Did I...is something wrong? I didn't mean to-"

"No." She wiped her cheeks, smiling. "No, Dark One. You've remade me. You make me whole."

He looked troubled, offered her an uncertain smile.

"I'm not sure if even I can do that," he said.

"But-"

"You're damaged, Fay" he said bluntly. "You're broken in ways I can't fix."

She stared at him, affronted. He sighed.

"And now you're angry. What I mean is...if you're waiting for me to fix you, or if you think I've somehow repaired you...you'll be disappointed."

"But...you've shown me the true path, Dark One! I've seen how hollow the Sanctuaries truly were, and that the Mother Goddess was an empty lie, and-"

"I've shown you _a_ path." He smiled, bright gaze moving over her body. "And I don't mind if you follow it with me. I don't mind at _all_. As I've said, you are my guest."

"No," Fay said, surprised again at her own boldness. "More than a guest. Haven't I done enough to prove myself to you?"

"Oh, I can think of a few more things you could do, maybe-" He grinned at the look on her face. "I'm joking. Mostly. But yes, you're right."

"Your little seneschal called me a Mistress, and that is what I want," Fay said, felt her heart beating faster at the words. "I want to hear it from _you_, Dark One. I want to hear you call me your Mistress."

"Very well." He pulled her closer to him, gave her a wicked little smile that made her blood burn. "Mistress, then. My Mistress Fay."


	20. Chapter 20

Kelda put her hands on her hips, surveying the metal monstrosity in the throne room. It had taken her and the wolves a full day to find the Dwarven ruins again, and another for Giblet to build her a working portal. She'd spent hours scrambling over fallen buildings and grubbing through old junk, but she'd finally retrieved...well, something.

She hoped it was something worthwhile. She'd seen the same rough shape etched over and over again in the witch-boy's dusty books, in a strange, sharp-angled script she couldn't read. Whatever it was, it had obviously been very important to the Dwarves. It looked quite wicked, too, all curving blades and rusted gears.

"Oh, gods below." Gnarl stopped short at the sight of the thing, goggling up at it. "Mistress Kelda, where did you find this?"

"We found it in the ruins," she told him eagerly. "You know what it is?"

"It's...it's a beard-trimmer," he said at last. "It can shave seven dwarves at once, but I doubt it will do much against the Empire."

"Oh," she said, crest-fallen. "I saw the blades on it, and I thought...well. Hells." They stared up at it. "I worked so hard bringing it up here! Isn't there something we could us it for?"

Gnarl stroked his own beard dubiously.

"I know for a fact that the Master's not going to let anything like that near any bit of his anatomy, and I'm a bit too old for that sort of experimentation."

"Are we still talking about the same thing?"

"I'll send it down to Giblet. Maybe he can make something out of it."

"Damn." Kelda pulled a worn book from her pack, paging through it. "I thought this was a book about dwarf weapons. Are these all just for beards, then?"

"Oh, I'd wondered where that had gotten off to!" The ancient creature took the book, flipped through the pages. "Over the years, the boy- er, I mean, the Master- has made off with almost half my collection. I'm missing a few volumes on the art of torture, maybe you could take a look around for them when you've got the chance." He paused, laid a bony claw on an odd-looking contraption. "Hmm. Speaking of which. This nasty piece of workmanship is a Flenser. It can skin a man in minutes."

"Those don't look like blades," Kelda said dubiously.

The creature giggled unpleasantly.

"Oh, no, Mistress. Those are pliers. Very enterprising fellows, those dwarves. Too enterprising for their own good. If you happen to find one, do bring it up, won't you? Here, I'll mark a few other odds and ends that might be useful, too."

Privately, Kelda resolved that if she found the device in the depths, she'd leave it there. Siege engines were one thing, she thought, but flaying machines were quite another. In any case, pliers like that were liable to tear a hide, and then the skin would be no use to anyone.

"Right," she said aloud. "I'm going back down.

Fay had drifted into the throne room, unnoticed. She cocked her head, studying the peasant girl.

"Where are you off to?" she asked curiously.

"None of your bloody business, fairy," Kelda said absently, stepped onto the portal, flanked by a trio of wolves.

Fay followed after her, landed delicately, hovering for a moment over the stones. Kelda gave her a dirty look. Around the elf, she felt about as graceful as a seal on snow. Fay just gave her a chilly smile in return, and Kelda sniffed and turned on her heel, stomping off into the ruins.

To her surprise, the elf kept pace with her and the wolves. She supposed she couldn't really do anything to make her leave. She'd float away on her own, most likely, once Kelda asked her to do any heavy lifting.

"Can I ask you a question?" the fairy woman said, startling her.

"What?"

Fay fell silent. Kelda glanced at her, and to her astonishment she saw that the one-time queen seemed to have a bit of color in her cheeks.

"The Scourge," she said at last. "You...you said you knew him when you were a child, yes?"

"Yeah, we were kids together. Why?"

"How many summers do you have, girl?"

"If you're asking me what I think you're asking me, I've got twenty years under my belt, as I reckon it."

Fay looked stricken.

"Twenty summers," she said faintly. "The Dark One, then, he's the same age as you?"

"A bit younger, actually, I think!"

"Oh Goddess above," the fairy woman muttered, shocked. "I'm a cradle-robber."

"I thought all you fairies were cradle robbers."

Kelda glanced at the elf. She was astonished to see that the elf woman was blushing. She took a closer look, saw what was quite clearly a fading bite mark on the woman's neck. Fay flushed even redder at her stare, turned her head away.

"Well, then." Kelda smirked. "I was wondering when he was going to get around to it."

"I-what?"

Kelda snorted.

"Don't play coy, fairy. I saw the way he's been staring at your arse the past few weeks."

The elf woman was bright red, and for the first time, she looked flustered.

_"__And_ you've got red hair, too. I know what he likes." Kelda grinned at her, amused. "Gods, you're blushing like a maiden. I thought elves were all about free love."

"My..." Fay took a breath, recovering. "My people are, yes, but-"

"But not you?"

"I am- was- their Queen. I couldn't lose myself in the pleasures of wine and flesh the way they could. But I encouraged them, actually. Before my rule, we were such a somber, sober people. But there were so few of us left. I hoped if we had, well, 'free love', as you've called it, we'd be able to repopulate." The elf woman looked briefly sad. "But there hasn't been an elvish child born in over fifty years."

"And now there's even less of you, right?"

Kelda found it hard to be concerned. Once, an elf warrior had tried to stop her from killing a walrus she'd been stalking for hours- something about the balance of nature, man. She'd punted him into the ocean.

Fay shrugged.

"Yes. We are the last of a dying race."

She didn't sound concerned, either. Kelda glanced at her. She supposed that, as Fay had said, she wasn't a particularly good queen.

"So." Kelda gave her a sly smile, wanting to fluster her again. "How'd you like it?"

"Like what?"

"Being tumbled by an Overlord."

"I-" Fay blinked at her. "You're not angry?"

Kelda studied her.

"Were you trying to make me mad? Was that why you fucked him?"

"Your feelings are of no concern to me," the elf woman said, recovering. "I'm merely surprised, is all. You seemed to guard him so jealously."

"I...I'm protective." For a second, Kelda looked vulnerable. "He was my best friend, when we were kids, but now...he knows how to be an Overlord, but he doesn't always quite know how to be a person, and...well. I worry about him." She gave Fay a hard look. "Don't you dare laugh at me, fairy."

Fay just stared back at her, impassive.

"You're not afraid I'll steal him away from you?" she asked.

Kelda bared her teeth in something that was almost a smile.

"You can try, pixie."

"Hmm." Fay smiled faintly. "You know, calling me those things- 'fairy', 'pixie'...it's very insulting."

"Yes, I know."

"You're a very rude girl. Very common." Fay cocked her head. "I wonder what he sees in you?"

Kelda just smiled back at her.

"Someone that he can trust." A black wolf barked, racing ahead into the ruins. Kelda frowned after it. "What's he got, then?"

She quickened her pace, trotting after it, rounded the corner of a ruined building and found herself staring at a queer stone circle. The wolf was nowhere to be seen. Kelda let her mind reach for it, worried, felt nothing.

"Mischief?" she called.

Fay had stopped walking, was staring at the circle.

"A portal," she breathed.

"That's never a portal," Kelda scoffed. "It's just a bunch of old rocks and a circle on the ground. Not very impressive."

"A very old portal," Fay amended. "From before the Cataclysm."

A white-coated wolf at Kelda's side whined, plunged towards the stones.

"Damn it! Mayhem! Get back!"

The wolf bounded onto the stone circle and vanished. Kelda caught her breath. After an instant, the wolves reappeared, Mayhem dragging Mischief by the scruff of his black mane. He shook sand from his dark fur, grinning cheerfully up at Kelda, something clamped in his jaws.

"Arsehole," Kelda snapped. "You scared me half to death. What've you got there? Give it here."

The wolf dropped the thing at her feet. It twitched faintly. She stepped back. It was chitinous and segmented, covered with a mottled, sandy-colored carapace.

"What the hells?" She crouched down, poking gingerly at it with her spear. "Fay, have you ever seen anything like this?"

To her surprise, the fairy woman reached down and picked up the twitching thing.

"No," Fay said curiously. "Never. It looks like it's from some sort of insect, maybe."

Kelda reached out and touched the wolves' minds. She caught a jumbled impression of endless sands, of something huge and dark and sinuous.

"I wonder what's through there?" Fay mused.

"Only one way to find out!"

Kelda pushed her, hard. Fay gave a startled, undignified squeak and vanished. Kelda stepped after her, spear at the ready, followed by her wolves.

She felt like she was being yanked through solid stone, rock liquefying grudgingly to let her pass. She rose through the portal sluggishly and took a breath of scorching hot air.

She looked about her. She was on a rocky outcrop, standing on top of a rune-etched circle. Vast, sandy wastes stretched away on every side. Jagged rocks jutted out of the sands, and there, in the distance, were the bones of some impossibly massive creature. The sun was a furious eye, searing her pale skin. The wolves were already panting, red tongues lolling.

"I have killed people for less."

Fay stared at her, eyes hard and cold, power sparking over her fingers. Kelda just smirked at her.

"Oh, you're fine, fairy. The wolves came back alright, didn't they? I just didn't want you behind me, is all."

"Wise beyond your years," Fay said, voice clipped and chilly, but her power flickered, settling back into its luminous aura.

"What is this place?" Kelda wondered aloud.

Fay looked about her, and her eyes widened. She smiled, then, the first genuine smile that Kelda had seen cross her face. It made her look much softer, younger, and she found herself wondering what the fairy queen had been like when she'd been a girl.

"Oh, by the Goddess," Fay gasped. "I think we're in Ruboria!"

"Where?"

"A desert empire. Ruled by savage men, full of creatures still more savage." Her pale eyes were shining. "We'd thought it had been destroyed in the Cataclysm! All contact with Ruboria had been lost after the great Plague."

"Savage creatures?" Kelda grinned, testing the point of her spear. "I like the sound of that."

The elf woman was setting off over the sands, looking about her with all the eager intensity of a scholar. Kelda shrugged and followed after her.

"They say there are fearsome beetles here, whose ichor is even more flammable than oil! Oh, and great worms, beneath the sands-"

The ground began to shake. Fay turned even paler.

"Oh," she said faintly. "I knew there was something I was forgetting."

"Earthquake?"

"No. The worms...they sense motion through the sand."

"Shit!"

Kelda didn't think. She grabbed the elvish woman's arm and ran, pelting for the nearest pile of stones. She pulled Fay up after her, gesturing frantically to her wolves.

"Mischief, Nuisance, Mayhem! Hurry, babies!"

Something enormous exploded from the sands, catching Nuisance in its jaws. She heard a sickening crack and a horrible cry, felt the wolf die as its link with her mind was flayed, severed. The creature swallowed her wolf whole. Kelda screamed, falling to her knees, inches away from the sands. Mischief and Mayhem raced past her, seized her by her pack and pulled her away as a great worm slammed into the stone where she'd been only seconds before. It shook its head, dazed, ichor leaking from its vast jaws, and disappeared under the sands, leaving scarcely a ripple in its wake.

She felt cool, slim hands on her forehead and stirred faintly. If Fay wanted to, she thought, the elvish woman could just push her off into the sand and leave her to the worm...or she could simply slit her throat and leave her to bleed out, with the witch boy none the wiser. The wolves growled softly, sensing her fear.

"It hurts, feeling something die," Fay said softly. Kelda felt her hands hesitate. "You saved me. Why?"

Kelda opened her eyes, squinting, smiled weakly.

"Just seemed like the right thing to do," she said. "I didn't much think about it. That, and the witch boy would be awful mad if I let his new toy get eaten by some kind of horrible monster."

"I suppose you're good for something, after all."

The wolves growled again, tensing. Fay looked up, and her eyes narrowed.

"Oh," she said.

Kelda followed her gaze, found herself staring down the points of several wicked-looking crossbows held by black-shrouded figures. They were tall, almost as tall as the witch boy, and their glittering eyes were hard beneath their hoods. She swallowed hard.

"Well," she said weakly. "They seem friendly."

"There's too many to fight," Fay said tensely. "Let's hope you're right."

One of the shrouded figures said something in rapid, sibilant Ruborian, pulling back her hood to reveal jade-green eyes in a dark-skinned, sharp-boned face. Fay frowned. It had been decades since she'd last spoken the language, but it sounded like the woman was challenging them. She shook her head and rose, inclined her head, regal.

"I'm sorry," she said, and then, cautiously, she lied. "We don't speak your language."

The woman switched to Common.

"You are elvish," she said, in a thickly-accented, melodious voice. "Why?"

Fay couldn't help but smile.

"My mother and my father were elves, you see, and-"

The woman shook her head, looking impatient.

"It has been awhile since I have spoken Common. My apologies, I am out of practice. What I meant is, why is an elf in Ruboria?"

"We..." Fay stared at the slender woman, her mind racing. "We're lost. My...friend and I were traveling to visit my cousin. Something went wrong with the portal."

The woman tilted her head, brilliant eyes considering them. Fay found her skin prickling beneath the scrutiny. Kelda groaned faintly, holding her head, and Fay gestured to her.

"My friend needs a healer," she said. "Medical attention, do you understand?"

"I understand." The woman studied Kelda, curious. "What happened to her?"

"I don't know," Fay lied again. "I think one of those worm creatures might have hurt her."

There was no sense, she reasoned, in telling the Ruborians about Kelda's magic link with her wolves...or about her own abilities.

"Huh." The woman snorted. "Only a fool walks on the sand of the desert." She stared at them, considering. "You are both too pale. Your creatures are...strange, with too much hair. And you...you shine, like a diamond. Why?"

"Ah...it's an elf thing," Fay ventured, hoping that the Ruborians hadn't had any contact with her people since the Cataclysm.

Her explanation seemed to satisfy the woman.

"Very well. We will take you to our Queen. You and your hairy creatures, and your unkempt friend."

Before Fay could blink, a rough hood was swept over her head. She heard Kelda make a muffled noise of protest, heard the wolves snarl as Kelda hushed them hurriedly.

"We will not harm you," the woman said. "Not yet. That is for the Queen to decide."

They were led, stumbling, over the sun-baked stones. Kelda felt her brow furrow as she tried to keep track of the twists and turns they were taking. The Ruborians were trying to confuse them, she thought. She couldn't keep track of where she was going over the unfamiliar terrain. Mayhem whined through a rough rope muzzle, bumping against her leg.

She could feel a dull ache in her chest where Nuisance had been. She shivered, despite the heat of the sun, heard Mischief whimper.

They stepped onto something metal that clanged beneath their feet.

"Hold on," the Ruborian woman told them.

There was a screech of gears, and then they began to move. Kelda felt her stomach plummet, clutched Fay's arm unconsciously. The wolves whimpered, crouching against her legs.

"What in the hells?" she cried. "Is this some kind of sorcery?"

She could hear the elf woman breathing very quickly. Fay's hand sought hers, fingers tightening against her own. She couldn't bring herself to pull away.

The Ruborian woman laughed.

"No, not sorcery," she said. "Technology."

"Techno-what?"

"We are in a gyrocopter."

"A gyro-what?"

"A flying machine!"

After what felt like an eternity, the machine landed with a sickening lurch. They staggered out dizzily after the Ruborians. Kelda could hear a flurry of voices, what sounded like merchants hawking their wares, unmistakable in any language. She heard a door creak open, and their captors helped them up a set of stairs. She could feel smooth stone pavement through the soles of her shoes, and the air was blessedly cool.

The woman pulled the hoods from their heads, pushing them forward.

"Her majesty, Queen Jewel," she said. "Lady of the Shifting Sands, Mistress of Thieves, Mother of Night."

A slender woman sat on gilded throne, toying idly with a jeweled dagger. Her face was lined, though still beautiful, and her dark hair was shot through with silver and bound into braids. She wore a golden headdress and white linen. Her eyes flickered over them, lingering on Fay. At last, she nodded to her daughter.

"Jade," she said, and then, in Ruborian, "_Welcome home, my treasure. What in the desert did you drag home this time?"_

_"__I'm not sure, mother. I think they might be spies. They came from the gate in the desert." _She turned to the pair. "My mother does not speak Common," she said. "I will translate for her. She asks for the courtesy of your names."

"I am Fay. And this is Kelda." Fay raised an eyebrow. "Are you called Jade?"

"We are the ones asking the questions, elf."

Another rapid-fire spurt of Ruborian, too fast for Fay to follow. The woman nodded and said something in response, something about portals, and armies.

"The Queen asks why a human travels with an elf."

Fay had a feeling that there had been a lot more information in that exchange, and wished her grasp of Ruborian was better. The language was coming back to her, the more she heard it, but she was still rusty.

"She is my servant," she said.

Kelda made a strangled-sounding noise and started to say something. Jewel looked at her quizzically, and Kelda turned the words into a coughing fit.

"How did you come here?"

"I told you. We were traveling to visit my cousin, and the portal malfunctioned."

"Could we hurry this up?" Kelda groused. "We have somewhere we need to be, after all."

Jewel regarded her coolly.

_"__Who the fuck is this scrawny bint?"_ she asked.

"My mother says you have a very impudent servant."

Another strangled noise from Kelda.

"My serving girl is right. What do you intend to do with us?"

A Ruborian was digging through Kelda's pack, pulled out a book and handed it to Jewel. She paged through it, raised an eyebrow.

_"__What in the desert?"_ she demanded. _"__They've got a book about Dwarvish weapons!"_

"My mother wants to know why an elf and her servant are carrying a book on Dwarvish weaponry."

"The Dwarves were our mortal enemies. I want to understand them better."

"Hmm."

Jade turned back to the Queen, and they began to speak rapidly to each other. Fay caught one word in three, something about spies, and Cataclysms, and dungeons. Things did not appear to be looking up for the two of them. Kelda glared daggers at the soldier going through her pack.

"You better not break any of that," she admonished him. "I spent a long time making those spear heads."

He just looked up at her and shrugged, uncomprehending. Kelda sighed.

"Lost my bloody spear in the sand, too," she grumbled. She winced, rubbing at the ache in her chest.

"How are you feeling?" Fay asked her softly.

"Why do you bloody care, fairy?" She snapped.

The elf woman hesitated.

"I...I know what it feels like. I felt my kingdom die," she said softly. "When the Overlord came to me-"

Jewel said something sharp and held up a hand, staring at Fay.

"What do you mean," she said furiously, "The Overlord?"

Kelda gaped at her, at her daughter.

"I thought you said she didn't speak Common!" she cried.

Jade shrugged.

"I lied."

"Answer me!" The Queen snarled.

"I..." Fay glanced at Kelda, who shook her head minutely. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"So..." Jewel hissed. "He's escaped the Abyss, then."

"The what?" Kelda asked her, confused.

"He _murdered_ my poor Khan," Jewel snarled, suddenly furious. "He put me in a _cage_. He threatened to _torture_ me." She rose, her eyes taking them in from head to toe. "You must be his latest whores."

"How dare you?" Fay asked, heard Kelda growl low in her throat. "Whatever are you talking about? We're lost, my servant was injured, and now you've taken us prisoner and insulted us-"

"Don't play coy." Jewel smirked. "Redheads, the pair of you. He's got a type, I know he does." She gestured to her guards. "Find that portal!" Her eyes kindled. "I'm going to have him dipped in solid gold- or, no- I'm going to have him torn apart by sand worms- no, I'm going to cut his ugly head off and feed his body to the beetles!"

Kelda surged forward, snarling, punched the Queen square in the face. The soldiers were on her in an instant, pulling her down to the ground. A spear butt hit her in the head, and she went limp. The wolves snarled against their muzzles, springing forward, as bright-feathered darts thumped into their flanks. They staggered, toppling beside their Mistress. Fay raised her hands, power crackling over her fingers.

"Stay back," she snapped. "I'm not afraid to hurt you."

Jewel scoffed and pulled something from beneath the cushions of her throne. It was a curious device, made up of interlocking gears of ivory, carved all over with jagged runes. She flipped a switch, and Fay felt her power draining as her aura flickered and died. She gaped at the Queen, suddenly powerless.

"I knew you were no ordinary elf," Jewel said. "Please, did you think I was stupid?" She tossed the device carelessly from hand to hand. "This handy little thing is some kind of magic canceling contraption. The Dwarves call it a Mage-Breaker."

"Dwarves?" Fay said slowly.

"Oh yes." Jewel smirked at her. "They made it for me. You know, I think they might love gold even more than I do?"

"The Dwarves are _alive_? I thought they'd all been wiped out in the Cataclysm!"

"You and everybody else outside Ruboria." Jewel shrugged. "Not that you'll ever leave Ruboria, of course." She gestured to her guards. "_Stake them out for the scarabs. The Dwarves will want their bones for their Broken God._"


	21. Chapter 21

Kelda woke to feel hot sand burning her back. The sun was beating down on her, pitiless. Her mouth was drier than old bone. She tried to sit up, and realized that her wrists and ankles were bound.

"Shit!"

She struggled furiously, the events of the previous day coming back to her.

"It's no use," Fay said dully. "We're going to die out here."

"I'm not ready to give up!" Kelda snapped. "You heard that woman! They're going to try to attack him, and he doesn't know they're coming!"

"Don't you think I've tried?" Fay stared up at the sun. "Jewel did something to me. I can't use my magic. And I'm afraid it might be permanent."

Kelda tugged at the ropes that bound her.

"What are they going to do to us?"

"Let the scarabs strip our flesh, I think." Fay heard a hiss, lifted her head. "Oh, look. Here they are now."

"Damn it, how can you just lie there and let yourself die?" Kelda snapped. "Don't you _care_?"

The black bird was sitting heavily on her chest, so heavy that she could hardly breathe. Fay heaved a sigh, suddenly feeling very old.

"It doesn't matter," she whispered. "None of it matters."

"_Sealshit!_" Kelda snarled. "You shut your fucking mouth, fairy. The witch boy fucking wants you back, I know it, and that means I better fucking care about you too!"

"Why?" Fay demanded. "Why should you care?"

The scarabs were getting closer now, despite the snarls of the bound wolves, scuttling eagerly across the sands.

"Because..." Kelda hesitated, frustrated. "Because you're not _Juno_. Because you're graceful, and pretty, and clever, even if I don't like you. Because I love him, and because he bloody gives a damn about you!"

"No he doesn't. I'm just a conquest, girl. I'm nothing more."

"Oh, shut up, you sparkly arsehole! Stop feeling sorry for yourself! Every bloody day he's after me, saying 'Kelda, is Fay doing alright? Kelda, is Fay happy? Is she settling in? How is she?' How the bloody hells should _I _know?"

"I..." Fay stopped short, shocked. "I didn't know."

"He's good to all his Mistresses." Kelda yanked at her bonds, angry. "Even bloody Juno, gods know why."

She gave another savage pull and managed to get her leg free, swung it over Fay's arm.

"Ha!" She exclaimed. "The bastards didn't find _all_ my knives, after all! Quick, there's a dagger on my inner thigh."

Fay hesitated, flushing. The other woman glared at her, glancing at the scarabs, inches away.

"Hurry up!"

Fay slid her hand under Kelda's skirts and up her thigh, trying not to blush. Her questing fingers found the knife and yanked it from its sheath. She flipped it around and sawed awkwardly at the bonds that held her wrist, trying to ignore the skitter of chitinous feet over the sand.

"Hurry!" Kelda cried.

The ropes parted with a snap. Fay sawed at the rope that bound her other wrist, was astonished to find herself praying to the Mother Goddess. She heard Kelda shriek, saw the girl kick a scarab back with her free leg. She slashed the ropes that held her ankles and rose, looking down at her. The scarabs hesitated, scuttling back. Kelda stared back up at her, her sea-green eyes wide and frightened.

"No," she gasped. "Don't leave me here."

Fay started to turn away, but something made her hesitate. The girl's eyes were shut tight. The wolves were snarling, furious, almost strangling themselves on the ropes that help them.

"Fine," Kelda whispered. "Fine, you've won. Just...please. Please do one thing for me."

"What's that?"

"Please tell him...tell him I love him, alright? And take care of him."

"I don't think I can do that," Fay said slowly.

"What?"

"That's two things." Fay knelt, cutting the ropes. "And I think looking after an Overlord just might be a two-woman job."

She held out her hand. Kelda took it without hesitation, letting the elf woman pull her to her feet. She took the knife and cut the wolves free as the scarabs hissed and milled just beyond their reach, a seething mass of chitin and scything jaws.

"Good choice," she said, flashed a savage grin. "If you'd let me die out here, I would have killed you."

"What now?" Fay asked her, watching the scarabs worriedly.

Kelda looked around. They were in a sandy amphitheater, surrounded on all sides by craggy cliffs.

"I think we should run."

"I think you're right." A scarab skittered forward, bolder than the rest, and Fay kicked it away with a curse. "_Go!_"

They pelted for the rocks in a spray of sand, the scarabs chittering furiously behind them. They scrambled up over the rough stone, tearing their skirts, pulling the wolves up behind them. The scarabs hissed, burrowing back into the sand.

"Shit," Kelda panted. "I thought for sure they were going to follow us!"

"Those aren't ordinary scarabs," Fay said softly, watching a gold glow of magic settle back into the sand. "I think they're bound there." She shivered, rubbing her shoulders. The sun was setting. "What now?"

Kelda looked around, thinking. The Ruborian guards were nowhere to be seen- evidently they'd put too much faith in the strength of their knots. The desert stretched ahead to either side. A narrow, treacherous-looking path stretched across the sands, sprinkled with bones. She narrowed her eyes, caught a gleam of metal from a rocky island in the distance.

"I think that's a- a what did they call it?"

"A gyrocopter?" Fay shaded her eyes. "Yes, I think you're right."

"Think we can fly it?"

There were figures moving busily around the gyrocopter. Fay smiled.

"No, but I'll bet one of them can."

Kelda frowned, eyeing the terrain.

"There's not much cover over those rocks," she muttered. "And we can't walk on the sand, we found that out the hard way."

"If only I had my magic," Fay said, frustrated. "I could draw a glamour over us to hide us."

"Why don't you try?"

"It won't do any good, but...alright."

Fay reached deep into herself, was startled to find a bright, tiny seed of power. It had drawn into itself like some frightened animal. She reached out to it, felt it uncoil, spreading tentatively through her skin. She sighed as her aura flickered back fitfully, feeling like herself again.

"Perfect," she said. "Let me see what I can do."

She drew a glamour over them, obscuring them. Kelda felt her skin prickle, heard the wolves whine.

"There," Fay said, sounding winded. "Now, if anyone looks at us, their eyes will slide right off us. I don't know how long I can keep this up, though."

"We'll move fast," Kelda said, beckoned to her wolves. "Follow me."

They made their way across the treacherous path, scrabbling for purchase. Kelda had to fight the urge to duck for cover at every step, felt certain that she was about to get an arrow between the eyes. It was strange, walking straight towards the enemy, and her every instinct was screaming.

There were at least a dozen soldiers, armed with wicked crossbows and gleaming spears. Jade was with them, pacing, fingering the gold hilts of a pair of slender swords. She stopped short, staring straight at Kelda, and Kelda swallowed. There was nowhere to run- there was nothing but worm-riddled sand on every side. After a moment, though, Jade shook her head and resumed her pacing, her bare shoulders tight.

_"__I don't like this," _she snapped. _"__They should be screaming by now. Mother should have let me kill them before we threw them in the pit."_

A soldier shrugged.

_"__She wanted his whores to suffer," _He said idly.

_"__I don't like it," _She said again. _"__Go check on them. See if they're dead. Shoot them if they're not."_

He rolled his eyes, turning to go.

_"__Yes, Princess."_

He turned, walked a few steps, and then crumpled, blood fountaining from his throat. Jade turned, her eyes wide.

_"__What in the desert?_"

Kelda and her wolves moved swiftly. A soldier toppled, throat crushed. Another fell to the sand, shrieking. Jade whirled, drawing her swords. Behind her, a soldier collapsed, hamstrung.

"I can't keep this up," Fay gasped. "Hurry!"

Jade backed against the bronze flank of the gyrocopter as her soldiers fell like leaves around her, cut down by some invisible force. Her mother had told her stories of desert ghosts and djinn, she thought frantically, but until now, she'd thought that they were nothing but children's tales.

_"__What's going on?" _she demanded.

Her lieutenant backed up next to her, swinging his crossbow towards every sound, eyes wide.

_"__I don't know, my lady, but you need to get out of here!"_

Jade nodded, sheathing her swords, climbing into the gyrocopter. Fay gasped, exhausted, dropping the glamour, as Kelda cut down the lieutenant and leaped up the ladder. Jade whirled, startled, and found herself staring straight into sea-green eyes. Kelda smiled at her, her wicked knife at her throat.

"Hello," she said. "We need a pilot. Do you know how to fly this thing?"

"Go to the hells, you witch!" Jade snarled.

"Oh, how rude," Fay said. "Kelda, I'm afraid we might have to hurt her."

"Oh, do you think so?" Kelda asked happily.

Jade swallowed, trying to lean away from the knife.

"Guards!" she shouted. "Guards, help me!"

The soldiers only moaned in response. Kelda grinned.

"I'm afraid I've kind of inconvenienced them a bit. Sorry about that. Now, are you going to help us, or do I get to start cutting?"

Jade swallowed again.

"Alright," she said shakily. "Alright, I will help you."

"Good choice!" Kelda looked around, considering. "Fay, we need weapons. Grab those spears for me, will you? And a crossbow or two."

Fay opened her mouth to protest, almost reflexively- the _idea_, she thought, of a peasant giving _her_ orders!- but after a second or two she closed her mouth and nodded. It _was_ a sensible idea, after all.

They climbed into the metal contraption, the wolves following them reluctantly. Jade sat, placing her shaking hands on the controls, a pair of crossbows pointed at her back.

The machine powered up with a rattle of gears and lurched into the air. The wolves crouched, whining, and Kelda looked even paler than usual. Jade clung to the controls with grim determination, darting glares at the pair of them. Fay looked about the cabin, curious.

"The dwarves built this, didn't they?" she asked, gesturing absent-mindedly with the cross bow. She wasn't used to resorting to weapons.

"Yes," Jade said tightly. "Please do not point that around like that. This machine is delicate."

"I thought so," Fay mused. "I don't know of any other race with such a grasp of engineering." She leaned out the window, squinting her eyes against the sand, examining the blades. "Tell me, Princess. What is the Broken God?"

"We don't know," Jade said tightly, concentrating on the controls.

"What do you mean?"

"The dwarves..." Jade fell briefly silent. "They will not tell us," she said at last. "We just know that we give them bones. So many bones- mountains, even- scoured clean by the desert. And in return, they give us machines like these."

"I've never heard of a Broken God," Fay said slowly. "And I thought the dwarves worshiped gold alone."

Jade shook her head slowly.

"That's all we know," she said, sounding frustrated. "We've tried to find out more, but our spies have come back to us in bits and pieces."

"Hmm," Fay said, thinking.

She would have to do some reading, when- and if- she returned to the Netherworld.

"Look at that!" Kelda exclaimed.

Something impossibly vast was rearing up against the dusky sky. Jade smiled.

"One of the great worm-lords," she said.

"Gods, that's _much_ bigger than the one we saw!"

"The worm-lords live out in the vast depths of the deserts. The one you saw was nothing more than a baby."

"Gods above." Kelda's eyes were shining. "Can you imagine hunting _that_?"

Jade looked back at her, startled.

"You are insane," she said. "The great worms cannot be killed."

"Oh, _everything_ can be killed, you just have to find the right kind of weapon. Hmm, maybe with a gigantic crossbow, and a whole lot of-"

"Shh!" Fay snapped. She cocked her head, listening. "Do you hear something?"

Jade frowned, listening, and then she grinned savagely, recognizing the sound.

"Did you really think my mother would let you get away with this?" she asked.

Fay poked her head out the window, yanked herself back as an arrow whistled past.

"There's three other flying machines behind us, and they're gaining," she said tersely.

The gyrocopter lurched sickeningly as something impacted the hull. Jade's eyes went wide.

"They're _shooting_ at us!" she cried, incredulous.

"Hmm." Fay perched on the seat next to her. "Tell me, child. How many other children does your mother have?"

The gyrocopter lurched again with a hideous shriek of gears. Jade swore, wrestling with the controls.

"She wouldn't do that to me!" Jade snapped. "She's my _mother_!"

The gyrocopter yawed to the side, smoking, spiraling out of control, slammed into the sand. Fay felt her head hit the back of the seat, tasted blood. Kelda swore, dragging herself up out of the twisted wreckage.

"Shit," she snapped. "Fay, are you okay? Mischief? Mayhem?"

Fay stood up slowly. She'd bitten her tongue, and she had a few scrapes and bruises, but otherwise she seemed to be mostly intact. The wolves whined, limping to their Mistress.

"I'm fine," Fay said.

Jade coughed wetly, trapped beneath a length of metal. Fay glanced at Kelda.

"We should kill her."

"I don't know," Kelda said uncertainly. "It doesn't seem very sporting."

"I'll do it, then, if you won't."

The ground began to shake. Fay staggered back. The wolves began to snarl.

"Get down!" Kelda cried.

A massive, sinuous body burst from the sand, pincers flailing as the worm cast blindly about. Jade laughed.

"Oh, well done!" she cried, sounding a little mad. "You have called up a worm, and now we will all die. Are you happy now?"

"Wait, I think I've read something about this," Fay said, watching the worm warily as it cast about over the sands. "If we walk without rhythm-"

"Then you will just look awfully stupid before you die," Jade snapped.

"Oh."

"But please, do try it. I could use a good laugh before we all get eaten."

Kelda was digging in the wreckage. Fay glared at her- the scruffy little peasant was going to get them all killed.

"Stay still!" she snapped. "It hunts by motion."

"Aha!" Kelda pulled a pair of spears free and brandished them, grinning.

"What in the desert are you doing?" Jade snapped. "I told you, the worms cannot be killed!"

"I like a challenge," Kelda said, tapped a spearpoint to her forehead in a jaunty salute. "Wish me luck!"

"What are you-"

Kelda burst from the cover of the wreck, drumming her heels over the sand. The ground shook beneath her feet, and she hurled herself to the side as the worm burst from the ground, pincers flailing. She leaped onto its back, plunging her spears into its chitinous armor. It shrieked, bucking, as she clung to the shafts of her spears, laughing like a madwoman. It reared up, trying to plunge back into the sand, but she pulled back on the spears, snarling.

"Climb on!" She shouted.

"Are you crazy?" Fay demanded.

"Probably! Hurry up!"

Fay clambered on behind her as the worm writhed, howling. It shrieked, twisting, as Kelda twisted the spears to the side, goading it towards the portal. It plunged down towards the stones, trying to scrape them off. Kelda leaped from its back, dragging Fay by the wrist, followed by the wolves.

"Hurry!"

They dove through the portal. The worm screamed and came after them, pincers snapping. Fay summoned her will, hit it in the maw with a pillar, sending it tumbling back into the desert.

"We have to destroy this thing!" she snapped.

She slammed the pillar down onto the portal, fracturing the stone. The worm howled, diving forward. Kelda rammed her shoulder into a stone statue, hit it again, sent it toppling onto the gate. The stone portal split in two with a flash of blinding blue light. There was a terrific thunderclap that shook the cave walls, rocks tumbling from the distant ceiling.

"By the Goddess." Fay picked herself up slowly. "Kelda?"

The other woman sat up, coughing.

"Mischief?" She asked. "Mayhem?"

The wolves barked in response. Kelda wiped rockdust from her face, smiling.

"Well," she said. "That was fun."

"You and I have a very different idea of fun."

"Come on. We have to tell the witch boy all about this." Kelda grinned. "A whole new land to conquer! He's going to be so happy."

She rose, offering Fay her hand. After a moment, the elf woman accepted. Bruised and sunburned, they made their way back to the Tower together.

-x-

Juno sat beside the fountain in the private quarters, tuning a lute.

The Overlord hadn't said a word to her before he'd left. She twisted the keys absently, uncharacteristically flustered. He hardly spoke to her, hardly even _looked_ at her, except when he thought she wasn't watching. There were men who would cut off their own _hand_ to have what she was offering him, she thought angrily.

A string snapped, and she swore, threw the lute aside. She rose and paced about the quarters, minions scampering to get out of her way.

She had friends, she thought- a soldier here and there, a governor or two, stationed on the edges of the Empire. Maybe she'd go spend some time in Everlight, with the elves- let the Demon Lord realize what he was missing.

"Mistress!"

She pulled up short, startled. A pair of minions labored towards her with a heavy wooden trunk, set it down in front of her with a splintering crash, just barely missing her feet.

"What do you want?" she snapped. "I'm _not_ cleaning that up."

One of them gave her an injured look.

"For you," it said reproachfully. "From the Master."

"From the _Master_?" Juno asked, surprised.

She opened the trunk. She was immediately dazzled by a pile of gold and gems and brilliant silks, and immediately changed her mind about leaving.

"Oh," she said, breathless. "Oh, look at it all!"

"He say..." One of the minions furrowed its brow, concentrating. "He say to tell you that it not...er...double hands."

"What?"

"Second hand, stupid," the other minion hissed, looking annoyed.

"Oh, I'm going to look fabulous in this." Juno sorted through the chest, pleased.

One of the minions tugged at her skirt.

"For you," it said again.

"What's this?"

It handed her a slender cedar box. Juno opened it, curious. The spider stone gleamed in the candlelight, winking from a setting of delicately-carved gold. She took it from the box, settled the gold chain over her neck, admiring it.

"Oh, he _does_ care," she murmured. "I'll have to thank him properly, won't I?"

She heard the crackle of the portal, the grind of stone on stone. She straightened, smiling, stroking the stone.

"Well, no time like the present."

She swept into the throne room and stopped short. The little peasant girl and the elf witch were standing in the portal, arguing. Juno sighed. She'd been secretly hoping they wouldn't come back. She supposed it was too much to ask that they'd go off and kill each other.

"I still don't think we ought to have smashed the portal!" Kelda was saying, in her thick, uncultured accent. "How're we going to ever find another way into Ruboria?"

"What would you have done?" the elf woman snapped, arrogant as always. "Let them follow us into the Dark One's domain?"

"What's all this about?" Gnarl scurried to them. "Did I hear you say _Ruboria_?"

"We found a portal in the Dwarven ruins," Kelda said breathlessly. "It led into the Ruborian desert. I fought a sandworm!"

"But...Ruboria was wiped out in the Cataclysm!" The old minion blinked at her. "And...a sandworm? Mistress Kelda, are you _insane_?"

"Why does everybody keep saying that?"

"Nevertheless, we were there," Fay said coolly.

"How is that possible?"

Quickly, Kelda explained what had happened- the portal, the Ruborians, Queen Jewel and Jade, and the Dwarven machines. The old minion stroked his beard, contemplative.

"Well, well," he said at last. "That is very interesting, indeed. Jewel, eh? She had a run-in with the boy's father, years ago. And the Dwarves...hmm." He frowned. "Don't mention a word of this to the Master."

"But-" Kelda started.

"He hasn't told you?" He glanced between them. "He's taken the lands surrounding Empire City. Tomorrow, he will mount his final assault. I don't want any distractions, mind you. I'll set Grubby working on finding a portal into Ruboria, now that we know it's not a blasted waste, and I'll talk to the bo- the Master about it once he's conquered the Empire."

Fay inclined her head in assent. Kelda crossed her arms, looking reluctant, but after a second, she nodded.

"Alright," she said. "When's he coming back?"

Gnarl reached up to stroke his crystal, eyes going unfocused.

"Ah, he's just mopping up," he said. "Chasing down stragglers, burning a few fields, that sort of thing. He'll be back in no time."

"Send him up once he gets here, will you?" she asked. "I want to talk to him."

The old minion waggled his eyebrows.

"Of course, Mistress. As you wish."

The fairy woman was giving her a contemplative look. Kelda glared back at her.

"What?" she demanded.

"Hmm." Fay looked up at Juno and smiled. "I have an idea."

She glided towards the Imperial woman. Kelda trailed in her wake, secretly hoping her idea involved pushing Juno off a ledge. Juno eyed them warily.

"Can I help you girls?"

"Yes, I think so." Fay linked an arm through hers, and then, to Kelda's astonishment, took her arm as well. "Come with me, ladies."

"What's this about?" Kelda demanded, trying to tug her arm free. "He'll be back any minute, and-"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about." Fay turned to face them, smiling. "There's a...a very old Elvish custom. A ritual, actually. We haven't done it in ages...and in fact, I've never actually tried it myself, but I think it's something that might be useful to the Dark One. It's a way we can help him."

"Yes," Kelda said immediately.

"How?" Juno asked in the same instant.

"In ancient times, we elves would use the ritual to lend a bit of our essence to our warriors. It made them stronger, and faster, even helped their wounds heal more quickly."

"Why do you need us?" Juno asked her suspiciously.

Fay shrugged.

"I could try it on my own, but the more willing souls there are in the ritual, the more powerful the magic."

"What do we have to do?" Kelda asked her cautiously.

Fay smiled, and then she told them.

-x-

Everything was in place.

Rose looked down at her map and allowed herself a slow, grim smile. She moved a pin and made a note in the margins.

The ranks of rebel slaves had swelled in the past few weeks, fed by Solarius' brutal crackdown. He'd instituted a curfew, and had sent soldiers stalking through the streets, arresting anyone who so much as looked as if they were thinking about rebelling. Each arrest just drove more willing fighters into her waiting arms.

Florian was _scared_, Rose thought. Solarius hadn't been seen in public since her son had burned the fields around the city, and people were starting to whisper. Marius still made bold speeches about the anti-magic shield and the Emperor's divine might, but no one seemed to be listening. There had already been a few riots in the market- the farmers had nothing else to sell, and no ships had been able to get through with their wares since the Overlord had taken the docks. Imperial citizens obviously weren't used to going hungry, and if the Emperor didn't act soon, his own people would start to turn on him.

She frowned, brushing a stray strand of hair back into her braid. She wished she knew what Florian and Marius were planning. Florian was an ass, and Marius doubly so, but she thought the two of them were smart enough to realize they couldn't crouch beneath the dome forever. Sooner or later, they'd run out of food, and then they'd have a revolution on their hands.

"Lady Rose." Janus knocked on her open door, gave her a respectful nod.

"What is it?"

"We found the boy from the palace, my lady. He says he wants to talk to you."

He stepped aside, and the slender slave boy gave her a shy bow, too shy to even meet her eyes.

"Oh!" Rose searched her memory for his name- now that he'd proven himself, she thought, he was worth remembering. "Tibus, right? Just who I wanted to see! Did you manage to find those plans I wanted?"

"Yes, my lady," he said softly, staring at his feet. "They had a map, and lists, and charts."

She set fresh paper and a quill in front of him.

"Write down everything you can remember," she commanded.

He bent over the paper, pen scratching. Rose frowned as she saw the Emperor's battle plan unfolding beneath the quill.

"Typical," she muttered under her breath. "I should have known."

"My lady?" Janus asked her.

"They're focusing on fortifying the palace. Solarius is running scared. He knows there's going to be rioting in a few weeks. He's leaving the city proper undefended, and it looks like he's deploying the secondary anti-magic shield around the palace."

"Perhaps he thinks that will keep him safe?"

"Maybe," Rose said dubiously. Her eyes moved lower, reading, and she frowned. "He's even recalled the guards from the Imperial shrines."

Janus shrugged.

"Like you said, he's running scared."

"Perhaps," she said, thinking.

It didn't add up. Florian used the shrines to store a portion of his stolen magic, kept the viscous ooze there for when he had to travel about the city. He was practically addicted to the stuff, guarded it so jealously she was hardly able to obtain any for her own use. It didn't make sense that he would leave the shrines unguarded, where anyone could wander in and-

"Lady Rose?" the boy asked her, interrupting her thoughts. "That's everything. I should get back to the palace before they realize I'm gone."

"Oh, yes," she said, gave him an absent-minded smile. "Thank you. You've been very helpful." She paused- she always tried to take good care of her tools. "Do you need anything before you go? Food, or anything else?"

"I..." The boy hesitated in the doorway. "I shouldn't-"

"I'm sorry. I won't keep you."

He fidgeted, and for a second or two it looked like he was going to say something, but then he turned and hurried away.

Rose turned back to her map and lit a fresh candle, glanced at Janus. He yawned.

"It's getting late, Lady Rose. I'm going to get some sleep. You should, too."

She gave him a humorless smile.

"I'll sleep when this is over," she said. "Right now, I have a revolution to run."


	22. Chapter 22 (NSFW)

As soon as the Overlord came through the portal, Gnarl scurried to his side, looking a bit harried.

"The Mistresses have asked to see you, Sire," the wizened creature told him. "Over and over again, actually. All three of them." He winced. "Quite shrilly."

"What is it now?" he asked, annoyed. "Another fight?"

"I'm not sure, my Lord," Gnarl said slowly. "They were very insistent. I think you'd better go deal with it straightaway, whatever it is. They seemed rather impatient."

"Ugh." He pulled off his helmet and tossed it to Giblet. "Gods below, you'd think they could manage to get along for a few bloody days without me."

He stomped up the stairs to the private quarters, irritated. He had an Empire to conquer, he thought. He didn't have time for bickering about home décor, or menus, or whatever else it was they were on a tear about this time.

They weren't waiting for him in the main room, and he couldn't hear them arguing, either, which was a relief. He frowned, looking around. Maybe they'd managed to sort it out themselves, although that sounded much too lucky to be likely. At last he shrugged, grateful for the reprieve, and pushed through the curtain into his chambers.

He stopped short. All three of the Mistresses were on the bed together, all in various stages of undress, all staring at him like cats who'd got the cream. He swallowed hard, and he almost turned on his heel and ran.

"Welcome back, witch boy," Kelda said, a wicked smile playing over her lips. "We've had a little talk, the three of us."

"Uh..." He looked between the three of them. "About what?"

"You've really gone to such great lengths for us." Juno was wearing the spider stone, gold gleaming from between her bare breasts. "And so we'd like to do something for you."

"I-"

"We think we can get along for the next, oh, thirty minutes or so," she said.

Kelda laughed, covered her mouth abruptly. Fay smiled. Juno glanced at them.

"The next hour, maybe?" she ventured. "If you come and keep us company."

The curtain fell closed behind him.

"Um- what sort of 'something'?"

The Mistresses glanced at each other, smiling.

"Let's get all this armor out of the way," Kelda purred.

Her fingers worked at the straps, deft. Fay joined her, kneeling beside him, undoing his greaves. He took off his gauntlets, looking between the three of them, gold eyes wide. Fay hid another smile.

In short order, they had him stripped. He looked between the three of them.

"Oh," he said. "That sort of something."

Fay had him in her mouth, and Juno was doing something between his legs that felt a bit like witch craft. Kelda kissed the side of his neck, amused.

"Oh," she repeated. _"__Now _he gets it."

She worked her way lower, her mouth warm against him, her tongue tracing the patterns wild magic had left on his skin. Her mouth moved lower, and she joined the Imperial woman, her sea-green eyes gazing up at him, full of wicked amusement.

"Gods _below!"_

Fay pulled back, giving him a sly smile. He reached for her, growling, but the three of them pushed him back against the bed. They glanced at each other, smiling, and then they joined him. Juno pulled herself onto his lap,straddling his hips, took him into her with a low moan, tossing her hair back.

"Hey!" Kelda snapped, sounding indignant.

"Come here," he said, voice rough.

He grabbed her by the hips and pulled her sex down against his mouth. She gasped, feeling his tongue enter her.

"Oh," she gasped. "Oh, alright, then."

To her surprise, Fay ran a chilly hand over the curve of her cheek, caressing her, her pale eyes hungry.

"You're lovely," the elf said, "For a savage."

"You're not half-bad for an elf."

"Only 'not half-bad'?" Fay smirked. Kelda found that she was flushing. "Let's see if I can do better than that, why don't we."

She kissed her, pressing her body up against hers. Her mouth was warm, and tasted like summer. Kelda was surprised to feel herself moan as the elf woman's cool hands ran over her skin, exploring her scars. She'd never kissed another woman before, she thought, much less an _elf_, of all people. She was surprised to find she quite liked it. She returned the kiss with surprising intensity, cupping the other woman's face in her hands, stroking her fiery hair. Fay opened her pale eyes fractionally and licked her lips like a cat, gave her a lazy smile.

"Still 'not half bad'?" she asked.

The witch boy was doing something much too distracting for her to reply. Kelda gasped, wriggled her hips, her mind going blank. Fay gave her a speculative look.

"Let's try this, then," she said.

"What are you-"

Fay was kissed her inner thighs, working her way up to where her legs joined. Her tongue flickered out tentatively to lick her clit, and Kelda gasped, straightening, found her hands tangled in the elf woman's hair.

"Oh, yes," she said. "Yes, not half bad at all, fairy."

"Tch." Juno paused, watching them. "She might not be bad, but _I'm_ much better."

The girls at the brothel had taught her a few things about women, as well as men. She'd spent a more than a few drunken, giggling nights experimenting...though she'd never been with an elf woman.

Fay glanced back at her and smiled, chilly.

"Prove it."

Juno hesitated, and then she smirked. She ran her hands teasingly over the elf woman's hips, trailing her painted nails over the pale skin. Fay was smaller than the human women she'd been with before, more delicately built, but she wasn't _that_ different, all things considered.

She stroked between the other woman's legs. The elf was all soft skin and downy red hair, flushed and hot and wet. She heard Fay make a small, startled noise, and smirked again- she hadn't really expected her to take her up on the challenge, it seemed.

_Not so different at all,_ she thought, amused, feeling Fay responding to her touch.

Fay gasped, feeling the human woman's fingers enter her, working with the ease of long practice. Kelda made an irritated sound, pushing her head back down.

"Hey, don't stop!" she snapped.

Fay was surprised to find herself panting, found herself growing wetter, felt her cheeks flushing. Juno pulled her fingers away, and she made a little noise of protest- and then she felt the other woman's warm mouth on her cunt, her tongue probing. Fay stopped again, startled, and Kelda forced her down again with a little growl. Fay heard herself moan, felt Kelda chuckle.

"You like this, don't you?" the human girl said, amused, fingers tangled in her hair, pulling it free of its careful pins. "You like being used, and by a 'peasant', no less!"

She couldn't deny it- the lust it woke in her ashamed her, which only made her want it more. The girl was making savage-sounding noises of pleasure, pushing herself against Fay's tongue, shuddering.

The Overlord's fingers were digging into Kelda's thighs, pulling her down against his mouth. His tongue was teasing at her cunt, lapping against her, almost enough to push her over. Fay's mouth was warm, her tongue nimble. The thought of a Queen servicing her set her skin ablaze. Her clit was a hot, bright point, her world narrowing to nothing but the pleasure of their mouths on her body, skin to skin.

The witch-boy reached up and caught her breasts in each hand, twisted her nipples, and she felt herself come, her back arching.

"Oh, oh _gods_! _Fuck!_"

She toppled off his face and flopped back against the headboard, going limp. He cracked his jaw and grinned at her.

"You liked that, then?" he asked her.

She mumbled something incoherent in response, burying her face in a pillow. He grinned, reaching for her, wanting to tease her, but Fay was there instead, her mouth warm, her tongue hungry. She pulled away from Juno, wanting him. She could taste the girl on his lips, the faintly acrid human tang of her. Her tongue sought his, and his hands moved over her body, toying with her.

Juno ground herself against his cock, cupping her breasts. She saw his bright gold gaze flick towards her, and smiled. She straightened and moaned, putting on a show. His hands cupped her ass, forcing her further onto him, and she gasped aloud, all pretense forgotten, as he drove into her, more savagely than he ever had before. She leaned back, letting him fill her, felt herself rise and crest on a wave of pleasure as she came, grinding herself against him.

She pulled away with a low, satisfied moan. Fay took her place, giving him an unreadable smile as she mounted him.

"This time, Dark One, _I_ seem to have the upper hand," she purred.

"Oh?" he asked her, smirking.

She felt bands of power settle over her wrists, crackling with magic, yanking them behind her back. She took a sharp breath, her breasts taut. His magic pulled her arms back, hard enough to hurt, and her breath came faster, her heart racing. He smiled at her, his hard-angled face cruel as his broad hands settled on her hips, pushing her down against him.

"My conquered Queen," she heard him say, voice cold and callous and full of wicked amusement. "My pretty little spoils of war."

Fay gasped, feeling her sex responding to his words, to the cruelty in his voice, caught inexorably in his grasp. She could feel the eyes of the other Mistresses on her, felt her skin prickle, felt her cheeks flushing beneath their inquisitive gaze. She was _his_, she thought, with a helpless lust, met his eyes and knew that he knew, too.

The elf woman and the Overlord were having a _moment_. Juno raised her head, watching them, her eyes narrowed. That would never do.

She rolled over, trailing her nails over his chest, felt his gaze shift to her. She smiled at him, coy, toying with the spider stone between her breasts.

"It's perfect, by the way," she murmured, leaned down to kiss him, dark hair falling like a curtain. "I _love_ it."

He smiled.

"I thought you- mphhh!"

She'd moved before he could think, her legs around his neck, her sex against his mouth, wet and welcoming. Juno practically purred, rubbing herself against him, felt his hands settle on her hips as his tongue sought her, eager.

"Hey." Kelda propped herself up on her elbows, eyes narrowed. "You've already had your fun, Imperial. Let the rest of us have a turn."

"Oh, come off it, you scruffy little bitch," Juno said, glancing over her shoulder, sounding amused. "_I_ taught him how to do this, after all,"

"Hey, but _I_ was the one who deflowered 'im, wasn't I?" Kelda snapped, indignant, moved to straddle him. "I want another go, you cunt!"

He swatted her ass, hard enough to sting, lifted Juno bodily. Kelda yelped, and Juno made an indignant noise.

"Behave," he growled.

Kelda made a face at him, but relented, giving Juno a speculative look.

"Oh, fine. I suppose we agreed on this, after all. Even if you _are_ a greedy slut."

"Hmmm." Juno raised a perfectly-groomed eyebrow, pushed her curls back. "You're right, for once. And the fairy's right, too, peasant. As much as I hate to admit it, you're sort of pretty, in a scrubby, messy way."

"If you didn't wear so much makeup, maybe I could say the same for you."

Another swat. Kelda grinned, catching his wrist.

"We're bonding here, witch boy. Fuck off."

"Is that what we're doing?" Juno asked her, turning, moved towards her.

"We could do other things, if you like," Kelda said, her voice going rough.

Juno's lips were soft, and she was a _very_ good kisser. Kelda supposed she shouldn't have been surprised. The Imperial woman's manicured hands rose to cup her breasts, playing with her nipples, and Kelda gasped, pressing closer.

"Gods above," Juno said. "Did your tits get _bigger_?"

Kelda glared at her, pulling away, blushing furiously. She'd gained a bit of weight in the past few months- she wasn't used to eating so well- but she'd thought she'd been the only one to notice.

"You're finally starting to look like a proper woman."

"If you mean like a bloody Imperial, that is!"

"Oh hush. I'm giving you a _compliment._" Juno kissed her again, stifling her protest. "And you know how rare that is, coming from me, after all."

Kelda felt slim arms twine around her waist and squeaked, startled. Fay kissed her neck.

"She's right, you know," she said. "You're awfully cute, little snow rat, especially when you're blushing like that."

"Snow _rat_?"

"Snow mouse, then," Fay amended.

"Hey, that's not much better!"

Fay just smiled at her, pale eyes flashing, and kissed her, her slender fingers slipping up into her. The girl gasped, panting, arms around Juno's neck. The Imperial woman was rubbing herself against Kelda's thigh like a cat, cheeks flushed, dark nipples taut. Kelda bent her head and took one into her mouth, biting just hard enough to make the other woman gasp, teasing with her tongue.

They were ignoring him, now, and that was more than a little annoying. The Overlord growled, low in his throat, and sat up. The three of them turned, their eyes amused, and he realized with a start that it had been deliberate, suddenly felt very young indeed.

"Come here," he snapped, covering his embarrassment, grabbed Kelda by the waist and dragged her to him.

She made a pleased-sounding noise, on her hands and knees, as he pushed her down against the bed and thrust into her. Juno was behind him, her breasts pressed against his back, her hand between their legs. Fay watched them, cheeks flushed, her aura flickering over her limbs like an aurora.

She was so _hot_, so wet, her body yielding to him, each thrust tearing a sharp gasp from her lips. Her back was bruised, covered in scratch marks. He forced her down against the bed, bit her shoulder, hard enough to make her whimper. She turned her head, her mouth seeking his.

"I love you," she whispered desperately, her body shuddering beneath him.

He felt himself unraveling for an instant as he came, felt her body beneath him, felt Juno behind him, felt Fay's cool hands against his skin. Something flowed into him, then, a wild strength, a feral hope. He collapsed onto his hands and knees, panting. Kelda pulled free, twisted to kiss him, her mouth gentle.

_Witch boy_, he felt her say, felt her reach up, stroking wild hair back from his face as he held himself above her, panting. She met his eyes and smiled, pulled him down to her breast and wrapped her arms around him, holding him close with her furious love.

They lay in a tangle of limbs, panting, candlelight playing over their bodies. After a long moment, he stirred, turned and gave Juno a speculative, hungry look. She met his gold gaze, stretching.

"What?" she purred. "Again?"

Fay looked up, smiling.

"Now I'm certain, my Lord. You can't be human, or elvish. You're some kind of demon, clearly."

"You've only just figured that out?" Kelda asked her, her eyes sparkling.

Fay glanced at her, at Juno, then smiled up at him, her pale eyes dancing.

"Well then," she crooned, her hands already working. "Let's see if the three of us can't bring the demon lord of Nordberg to his knees."


	23. Chapter 23

He woke from a drowsy half-sleep to find his Mistresses draped over him, boneless as cats, sound asleep. Kelda, he was surprised to see, was curled up next to Juno, her arm flung over the Imperial woman.

He supposed that was one way to convince them all to get along.

He pulled himself free with a twinge of regret. Kelda stirred and opened her eyes a fraction, looking up at him

"Witch boy?" she muttered.

He leaned over to kiss her.

"Go back to sleep," he said softly.

She blinked and yawned, rubbing at her eyes, sitting up. Juno stirred sleepily, rolled over and snuggled up against Fay with a sigh. Kelda blinked, waking up, staring at the two of them.

"Who would have thought the three of us could have gotten along like that?" she asked him softly, with a sly little smile. "And for so long?"

He grinned. She slipped out of the bed and helped him dress, buckling the straps of his wicked black armor. He clenched a fist, looking down at it, curious.

"You did something to me, didn't you?" he asked her quietly. "The three of you."

She smiled up at him.

"It was Fay's idea," she said. "You know. Just in case it doesn't work and turns you into something horrible."

"No, it most definitely worked." He smirked. "And anyway...I'm _already_ something horrible."

"Not to me," she said quietly. She stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him. "Be careful," she whispered. "Good luck, my love."

He took one last look back and let the curtain close behind him.

The throne room was a hub of activity, minions rushing back and forth excitedly, gibbering frantically. They stilled as he entered, crouched expectantly. Gnarl bowed to him, handing him his great black helm.

"Master," the old minion said, a hint of fondness in his voice.

He buckled the helmet into place, held out his hand. Giblet handed him his axe, and he tested the edge, grinning.

"Are you ready?" Gnarl asked him.

"I can't wait."

The ancient creature leered, suddenly lecherous.

"Are you sure, Master? Mistress Kelda kept you up awfully late last night, didn't she?"

"Uh...actually, they all did."

Gnarl pursed his leathery lips, impressed.

"Oho! Well, then! Well done, lad!"

"It was their idea. Not that I didn't enjoy it, of course, but..."

"Yes, it usually is. Mistresses can be so...inventive." He turned, surveying the assembled minions, and smiled, sharp-toothed. "The Tower Heart is ready when you are, Sire."

The Overlord bared his teeth in a savage grin beneath the helmet. He'd waited thirteen long years for this moment, he thought, and nothing could stop him now.

"Let's go conquer an Empire."

-x-

_"__Rose."_

He was so close, so very close to her. She could hear his heart beat, could feel the heat of his skin.

She stood before a tall, dark mirror, staring at herself, put a wondering hand to her cheek. She was young again, her face unlined, and the red hair that tumbled over her shoulders had nary a trace of grey. She wore nothing but a Sentinel's cloak, drew it closer to herself with a shiver.

"_Rose,"_ she heard her lover say again.

She'd thought she'd forgotten what his voice had sounded like. Her vision blurred, and she stepped closer to the mirror, laid a hand on its pitted, blackened surface.

"Where are you?" she whispered.

Her reflection shivered, the mirror going blank and black, and then a gauntleted hand formed against hers, far larger than her own. She strained to see into the gloom, could just barely make out golden eyes.

"_I'm so close_," he said, sounding faint, and very, very tired. "_I can almost..."_

"How can I help you?" she asked him, hearing the desperation in her voice.

She could make out his face now, as if through a haze, high cheekbones and a knowing smile. Her heart ached, and her fingers traced the line of his jaw, unbidden.

"_My Rose,"_ he said softly. _"You don't need that cloak. You're lovely without it."_

"I..." she hesitated, her hand going to the collar of her robe. "I can't-"

His fingers flexed on the other side of the mirror, and his eyes met hers. She couldn't look away.

"_Come to me_," he whispered, and she could hear the need in his voice. "_Please."_

"I..."

She could step through the mirror, she thought. She could be in his arms again, could feel his mouth on hers, could tell him all the thousand things she wanted to tell him, big and small. She took a step forward, hesitant, looked back.

"My son needs me," she said slowly. "I...I can't leave him again."

His eyes widened.

_"__A son_," he breathed. "_I have a son."_

The world rocked and shook, magic crackling over the marble columns of the city like lightning. Rose sat bolt upright in her bed, the dream fragmenting, hearing the clamor of bells.

"Oh, oh no." Rose fought her way free of the bed clothes, clutched her greying temples, her chest aching. "No, please, I was so close-"

She looked up at the cracked and dusty mirror in the corner of the room, saw nothing but her own reflection. She rubbed at her chest, regretful. Nothing but another dream...even if this one had felt so painfully _real_. She shook her head to clear it, listening to the bells. She didn't have time for fantasties. Something big was happening. Her son had broken through the shield.

She could hear screaming, the clang and clamor of bells- and, closer, the clash of swords. Her own heart beat faster, and she snatched up her poisoned daggers, whirling as the door flew open.

Mara staggered through, clutching at her gut, blood blooming through her toga.

"Fucking palace slave," she snarled. "Fucking traitor."

"Mara?" Rose heard herself say.

It was all going wrong, she thought. Her head suddenly felt like it was full of wool. Mara toppled, clutching at the door jamb.

"Run, my lady," she rasped.

The slender palace slave stood behind her, flanked by legionnaires. His eyes flickered down to Mara, and for a second or two it looked as though he would be sick. He swallowed, hard, and looked up at Rose, his eyes hollow.

"I'm so sorry," he said. "I was scared. I wasn't strong enough."

Rose set the daggers down carefully, feeling numb.

"You led them here," she said.

The slave swallowed again, unable to meet her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "Emperor Solarius and Lord Marius found me going through their papers. They were going to kill me, unless I..."

He trailed off, staring at her, stricken.

"I miscalculated," Rose said faintly.

Rose felt the legionnaires twist her arms behind her back, binding her tightly. They were taking no chances with her this time, it seemed. There were far too many here for her to fight, even with the power of the Sentinels, and there was no telling how many of the rebel slaves had been killed or captured. She raised her chin and met the eyes of their captain, icy.

"Very well," she snapped. "Take me to my husband."

-x-

"Welcome home, my wife," Marius said, in a voice that dripped with venom. "You gave us a bit of a chase, didn't you? But now you're back home- where you belong."

Rose favored him with a chilly smile, inclined her head, her arms bound.

"Marius," she said coldly.

She looked around her, calculating. She was in the palace proper, and the palace shield would keep her from summoning the Sentinels. Soldiers in bright armor were waiting on every rampart and balcony, bows at the ready, keeping a wary eye on her.

"Are you expecting company?" she asked him, with an icy little smile. "Or is all of this just for me?"

He returned the look, contemptuous.

"Your bastard did us the favor of returning the Tower Heart," he said smugly. "He used it as a sort of battering ram, actually. Blew right through the anti-magic shield around the city, I'm afraid, and blew itself up in the process...and now the shrines are collecting all that free, wild magic and rendering it down."

Rose stared at him, shocked.

"The Tower Heart?" she repeated, feeling numb.

_How could he be so stupid? _She thought, and then, _Gnarl._

Gnarl wouldn't care if he had to destroy the Tower Heart. He wouldn't care if, by doing so, he'd only managed to put her son in more danger. All the twisted creature cared about was conquest and carnage, and if his Overlord got a bit too damaged in the process, well, he could always find another one. She gritted her teeth, angry.

"Solarius has all the power from the Last Sanctuary now, and more, besides."

Rose looked about, considering the guards.

"What are you going to do now, husband? Banish me to the Wastes with all the other troublemakers? Execute me, maybe?"

He led her by the elbow into Solarius' chambers, his eyes hard.

"Oh no, my wife. I won't let you off that easily." His hand tightened on her arm, angry. "You're stuck with me, I'm afraid. To death do us part and all that." He glared at her. "_My_ word means something, after all."

She raised her chin, eyes flashing, but said nothing.

"Once Solarius rises to divinity, he will-"

"Wait, once he _what_?" Rose asked him sharply.

Marius gave her a haughty smile, pouring himself a glass of wine.

"With the magic he's collected, he can rise as a god." He sneered, toasting her. "I'd offer you a glass, my wife, but you seem to be in a bit of a bind."

Rose stared at him, remembering. Once, a long, long time ago, she'd had a conversation with Florian. He'd been rambling, off-kilter and philosophical, about the nature of gods and men...and then he'd asked her, in his off-hand way, if a mortal had ever become a god.

_"__No_," she'd snorted. _"That would be impossible."_

_"__Why?"_

_"__Well, the kind of power it would take...it would be incredible."_

_"__But if, say, for the sake of argument, you had that kind of power?"_

_"__No mortal could have that much power. It would drive them completely insane."_

Rose shook her head, dismayed.

"You're mad, the both of you."

"Oh, poor, silly Rose." Marius shook his head. "You could have been a goddess! Instead, you'll live out your days with those ugly lines on your face, that wretched grey in your hair. I'll get to watch you wither and die on the vine, while I'll live on, in glory."

If her arms hadn't been bound, she thought, she would have most certainly slapped him.

"And what makes you so sure," she snapped, 'That Florian really will reward you? What's to stop him from-"

The doors crashed open, and Solarius strode through, cape billowing behind him. The guards saluted and started to follow him in, but he dismissed them with a sharp gesture, and the doors slammed closed behind him.

"You've had her searched?" Florian demanded.

"Of course, my lord!" Marius said, indignant.

"Hmm."

Florian regarded her from behind the mask, reached out suddenly and thrust a hand down her robes. Rose gasped aloud at the impropriety, went pale as he pulled a vial of viscous blue liquid from between her breasts.

"I know _all_ your tricks, Rose," Florian said, sounding amused.

Rose drew herself taller, angry.

"What do you want, Florian?" she snapped.

"Oh, how terribly rude." He tapped the mask. "It's Emperor Solarius now, or have you forgotten?"

Rose snorted.

"Oh, please. I helped create you, Florian."

"And you can destroy me, is that what you were going to say?"

"I can certainly try."

"You certainly _have_ been trying, haven't you?" He waved a hand, annoyed. "First the loss of our spy network and the Sentinels, then the slave revolution. And now the elves are harrying our outposts in the Last Sanctuary, no doubt you had a hand in that, too."

Rose suppressed a small sound of surprise, filed the new information away for later analysis. If the legionaries in the Last Sanctuary were busy fighting the elves, then Florian wouldn't be able to count on them for reinforcements.

"I've brought you here, Rose," Florian continued, "Because I want you to have a front-row seat when I rip your bastard's magic from his chest. I'm going to leave you nothing but a smoking husk to bury."

Rose laughed, loud and harsh, and Florian took a step back, startled.

"Oh, you poor, deluded creature," she said, her voice sharp. "My son could have _destroyed_ you when he was nothing more than a _child. _You're pathetic, Florian. Even with the power you've _stolen_, you could never be his match!"

"Shut up," the elf said tautly.

Rose smirked.

"You're _afraid_ of him, aren't you? I _know_ you. You're nothing but a magic-less coward, a pathetic little nobody who will never, ever-"

The elf moved like lightning, hand cracking out to backhand her across the face. She fell, unable to catch herself, tasting blood. Marius made a startled noise, moved fractionally towards her- and then he turned away, his face hard.

Rose sat up slowly, licked her bleeding lip.

"Oh, well done," she sneered up at him. "The mighty Solarius, conqueror of frightened children and defenseless old women."

He raised his hand again, and she gritted her teeth, tensing for another blow- but then he lowered his arm and turned away, settling the mask back into place.

"Fuck you, Rose," he snapped. "I won't give you the satisfaction."

Marius turned back to him, not looking down at her.

"What are you going to do with her, Sire?" he asked.

Florian gave her one last look, eyes cold behind the gold mask.

"Leave her," he said at last. "When we've broken her bastard, then we'll decide what to do with her."

The door slammed closed behind them and latched, candles guttering. Rose listened to their footfalls as they walked away, probing gingerly at her split lip.

At last, she was sure they'd gone. She worked the sole of her shoe against a raised tile until it split open, a sharp, tiny blade clattering to the floor. She picked it up gingerly and sawed carefully at the ropes that held her wrists until she was free.

She lifted her skirts and tugged at a loose thread in the hem. A tiny glass vial, filled with viscous, glowing blue ooze, tumbled out into her hand. She smiled as she broke it, the stolen power leaching into her skin.

"Not _all_ my tricks, Florian," she murmured. "Not by a long shot."

-x-

The city was burning.

He strode through the broken streets, letting the minions run wild, cutting soldiers down like wheat. He smiled beneath the black helmet, his face hard, hearing the city scream. The Imperium had thrown him in the Arena like an animal, had cheered at every blow he'd taken. They'd tried to hunt him down when he'd been nothing but a child.

_Let them all burn._

He caught a flash of blue light from the corner of his eye and turned with a snarl. The hooded woman landed gently, hurrying towards him.

"I must speak with you," Rose said.

He would listen, she thought, looking up at him. He _had_ to listen.

"Why, it's our friendly local cloaked stranger!" Gnarl said, amused.

Magic was singing through her veins. She could _hear_ the creature, she realized, as he sat like a spider under the ground and used her son to do his dirty work. She felt her lip curl.

"Oh, do shut up, Gnarl," she snapped.

It felt so good to finally say it.

"What? How did you- Hang on. I recognize that voice now. Rose! Former Mistress Rose...or Mrs. Marius now, should I say?"

_Mistress_ Rose. He stopped short, staring at her. In the daylight, he could see into the depths of the hood- red hair, a sharp face, cunning green eyes. She raised her chin, meeting his gaze.

"Don't trust her," Gnarl continued. "She's a devious, manipulative abandoner. Oh, and she's your mother. The one who took you away from us and left you in that festering town!"

"You don't need to remind me," he growled. "I know."

"I knew what you could become," Rose said. "The power within you. The Empire had to have a chance to bring a little order and discipline to these lands."

"So you stole my birthright from me."

She flinched, recovered rapidly.

"I wanted to _protect_ you," she whispered, so low he could hardly hear her.

"And what a fine job you've done of that." He gestured to the minions. "Tossed out in the cold, raised by demons, hunted wherever I went-"

"Listen to me!" she snapped. "I don't have much time!"

He stopped short, startled. She pushed stray hair from her face, flustered. The way he spoke to her, she thought...it was almost as if he hated her.

Maybe he had a right to hate her.

She shook the thought away, continuing.

"I'd thought that Solarius was going to be a decent ruler," she said, briefly sad, remembering the elf she'd known. "But power...it always corrupts."

"Ha! That's half the fun!" She heard Gnarl exclaim.

Her son laughed at that, low in his throat. Rose shivered, pressed on.

"His power has peaked. It's become unstable. _He's_ become unstable. Now he's just a hideous week choking the land we set out to rebuild. A weed that needs to be cut down, and ripped out!" She looked up at him, considering. "I think that you might be the one who needs to wield the axe."

There was no one else, she thought, who could do it. If Florian really did what Marius claimed he was going to do- if he was going to try to ascend to godhood- then no ordinary mortal could stop him. It would have to be her son, with his power-scarred skin and wild magic.

She looked up sharply. She'd set a ward in Solarius' chambers, heard Marius' voice beyond the door, unmistakable in its smugness.

"I have to go," she said, regretful, turning away. "Marius is calling for me."

_Be brave,_ she thought. _Be clever, be quick. _

The time had long passed, she thought, for him to be good.


	24. Chapter 24

Rose landed just as the door opened, brushing her hair back into place. Marius swept in with a pair of guards, stopped short, seeing her unbound arms.

"Well, then," he said. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."

"I'm very crafty," she said calmly.

"Oh, yes, I know," he said.

She held out her wrists, raising an eyebrow.

"Did you want to bind me again, husband?"

"Oh, what's the use?" he said irritably. "It's just a waste of good rope."

"What do you want, Marius?"

"Solarius and I want to show you something," he said, gave her a cold smile. "Come with me."

She followed him to the balcony, the guards keeping her under careful watch, their hands going to their swords every time her hands so much as twitched to her sleeves. Solarius was waiting for them, inclined his head to her with a sarcastic little wave of his hand.

"I do wish you'd hurry it up," Rose said coolly. "I'm getting old. I'm tired. I'm starting to catch a chill."

"Oh, shut up," Marius snapped. "Stop whining."

A crowd had gathered outside the palace. Some of the citizens were kneeling, voices raised in babbling prayer. Others were pounding against the anti-magic shield around the palace, shouting furiously. The soldiers behind the shield looked skittish. Solarius walked to the edge of the balcony and raised his hands, and the crowd fell silent. Marius raised his voice.

"Citizens!" He cried. "The demon foe we face today may seem terrible, but I assure you all, he can be beaten!"

Rose surveyed the crowd, caught a few familiar, hard-eyed faced, and sighed in relief. Some of the rebel slaves had managed to escape the raid on the safe house. Some things, at least, were going according to plan.

"We stand on the brink of a new era," Marius continued, pompous. "The birth of a new divinity!"

"You're insane," Rose snapped bluntly. "It's going to kill you- if you're lucky."

"Be _quiet_," Marius snarled.

Rose fell silent, looking at him, suddenly saddened. She had never really loved him, she thought- how could she, after the man she'd once known? But she'd been fond of him, once, back when her back hadn't been so bent, back when he'd still had all his hair. Marius turned away from the reproach in her eyes, thin shoulders set.

"And now you must drink!" He cried, addressing the crowd. "Drink of the nectar of Emperor Solarius, and it shall be your salvation!"

Rose felt her eyes widen as she realized what they intended to do.

They were going to use their own citizens as weapons. That was why Florian had pulled the guards away from the shrines- he planned to expose his own people to the virulent magic ooze. He'd planned it all along. She was surprised- not even _she_ would have gone that far. But then she looked at him, saw his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. He'd gone well and truly mad, she realized She only wished she'd seen it sooner.

"Stop!" she cried. "Don't listen, it won't save you!"

Citizens were swarming to the shrine, weeping. Her revolutionaries stood back, looking uncertain.

"Don't drink it!" she shouted.

"Keep her _quiet_," Marius hissed.

A guard dragged her back, hand going over her mouth. She fell silent, staring in horror as those who drank the ooze twisted and changed, turned and charged at those who had hung warily back. Then the screaming started. Rose turned away, feeling sick. Florian laughed behind the mask, a high,sharp giggle. The guards glanced at him, startled, and Marius gave them a wary look.

"Time to go, I think" he said. "The Emperor needs his daily rejuvenation."

"What should we do with her?" a guard asked him, gesturing to Rose.

"Take her to the palace dungeons and clap her in irons." He gave her a cold look. "I'd like to see you try to escape from _that_."

The guards led her away, the screams from the courtyard ringing in her ears.

-x-

"Oh, _gods_," Juno screeched, sounding horrified.

Kelda took the stairs down to the throne room two at a time, expecting something awful. Gnarl had sent her out of the throne room, claiming that her constant pacing was distracting him. Instead, she'd practically paced a groove into the floor in the private quarters, had gnawed her fingernails down to the skin.

"What?" She demanded, worried.

Juno was pointing a manicured finger at the display Gnarl had summoned up. It flickered and arced with lightning, hanging below the portal like a mirage.

"It's...it's _awful_," she cried. "It's hideous! I've never seen such a fashion disaster!"

"Oh." Fay perched on the steps of the dais next to her, sounding surprised. "That's _Florian_!"

"What in the name of all that's chic is a _Florian_?" Juno demanded.

"He is- was-my lieutenant, in the Sanctuaries. The Empire captured him weeks ago. I thought he was dead!"

"Good thing for him he's not," Juno sniffed. "_I_ wouldn't want to be caught dead in those clothes, either."

"I escaped the Arena dungeon with the aid of a helpful fairy!" They heard the elf say.

"Lucky me," The Overlord snapped.

"I'm going to find Solarius," Florian declared. "He'll be a very different man when I'm finished with him!"

Gnarl pulled himself onto the stones next to them, grinning.

"Oh, so he's going to whinge at Solarius until he kills himself, is he?" He tilted his head, considering. "Hmm, could work."

Fay sat straighter, her mouth a tight line, hands knotted in her lap.

"Idiot," she snapped. "He's going to get himself killed."

"I thought you didn't care," Kelda said.

"I- I don't, of course not. But still. He's an idiot."

Fay leaned forward, frowning. Kelda glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. It was the most emotion she'd seen out of the elf woman yet.

A clash of iron on armor drew her attention back to the display. She bit at her thumbnail. Gnarl reached over and gave her arm a gentle swat.

"Mistress, the Master's not going to be happy if he comes home to find you've gnawed off all your fingers," he said. "Stop fretting. He's the Overlord. He'll be fine."

"I wish you'd have let me go with him," she said, frustrated. She raised her voice so the witch boy could hear her clearly. "I wanted to fight by your side, love, but Gnarl pitched a fit! And he hid all my spears, too."

She gave the old minion a dirty look. He just shrugged, unrepentant.

"How come you got so upset about me going with him, anyway?" Kelda asked him grumpily.

Fay hushed her hurriedly. Florian was saying something.

"Things would have been very different if I'd been magic, Scourge," the elf was saying, sounding regretful. "You know the other elves made fun of me? Elves are supposed to be magical, but I couldn't even make grass grow."

"A failure in life, too, then," Gnarl said, amused. "What a surprise."

"Don't call him that," Fay snapped, suddenly angry.

The three of them were staring at her, two quizzical sets of human eyes and a pair of goggling minion orbs. Fay sat up straighter, frowning back at them.

"He was a good lieutenant," she said tersely. "Well, at the very least, he tried."

"I'd hoped your predecessor's Tower Heart would unleash my potential," The elf was saying. "Which is why I tried to steal it, all those years ago. I mean, how was I to know that it would become unstable and slightly explode?"

Fay gasped, and Gnarl's eyes widened even further. It was a more than a little unsettling.

"So Florian caused the Cataclysm, eh?" Gnarl said. He chuckled. "Bumbling elf."

"Oh, Goddess," Fay said softly, reeling. "Florian, you poor, stupid fool."

She'd always known that he'd resented the Mother Goddess for the way she'd made him. And it was true, the other children had been merciless to him, when they'd been growing up. He'd taken it all with a smile, though, had shown them all nothing but a wry, sardonic mask. She'd never dreamed that he'd do something so utterly foolish.

"And then people started to fear magic. And along came Solarius, and he rose on the tide of their hatred and paranoia!" The elf gestured. "Hurry up, Scourge. The magic containment room is just through here."

He vanished through a pair of doors, and Fay caught her breath, realizing that she did, in fact, still care. Her lieutenant might be more than a little ridiculous, she thought, but he'd been clever, had risen through the ranks of her army on nothing more than his own wit and skill. But without magic, he didn't stand a chance against Emperor Solarius.

The Scourge followed him, more slowly. The magic containment room was vast, carved of white marble, flickering with an eerie blue light. Viscous, wild magic surged furiously against the walls of a vast pit, fighting the bonds that held it trapped.

Marius was perched above the pit, staring down at it, rapt. Florian dropped down behind him, and Kelda leaned forward eagerly.

"I'll take back every bad thing I ever said about him, if he pushes Marius off that ledge," she said eagerly.

"Everything is prepared for the ascension, my lord," Marius said, without turning. "People will talk about this day in whispers and-"

"Oh, do shut up, Marius," Florian snapped, struck him hard enough to knock him down.

Kelda let out a little cheer, and Juno clapped softly...and then stopped, startled, as Marius pulled himself gingerly to his feet and bowed to the elf, handing him a golden mask.

"Sorry, Lord," he said subsurviently.

"Anyone would think _you_ were about to take over the world!"

The mask fit Florian perfectly. Fay sat, stunned.

"_Florian_?" she whispered.

"Well, then," Kelda said softly.

Juno just gaped.

"The god-Emperor Solarius...is an _elf_?" she murmured.

"Shall we continue?" The Emperor asked the witch boy, smirking beneath the mask. "I assure you, your complete and total annihilation is just around the corner."

The Overlord leaned on his axe, eyeing him warily. There was no clear way, he thought, to get to the Emperor, and the elf was too far away for his magic to be much use. Perhaps, he thought, if he threw a minion hard enough...

"Do I really have a choice?" he asked, dry. "Or do I have to sit here and wait whilst you monologue?"

The Emperor ignored him, striding to the edge of the pit, the eerie blue glow reflecting from his mask.

"As you can see, Florian still has his uses. Helping me play with your little barbarian head, for one. And by maintaining him, I could bring the Sanctuaries down from the inside, piece by piece. Ah, I really hope that bit of delicious irony isn't lost on you, Scourge."

"Perhaps you should explain it again, more slowly," The Overlord said. He glanced down at a brown, back at the elf, trying to decide whether or not he could manage the throw. "Just so that it gets through my thick barbarian skull."

Fay was white as a ghost.

_All that death_, she thought again, and then she remembered. It had been _Florian_ who had suggested she give the Scourge the power of her shrines. It had been Florian's ship that had led the Overlord's ship to the gates of Everlight. And it must have been he who had shown the Empire the way into the heart of Everlight itself.

How could she not have seen it before?

"I collected the magic here," Florian said, and with a gesture, his garish costume rippled and changed, settling into the regal robes of the Emperor. "I refined it, and used it to help my citizens until they became...pliable. Though of course I sampled a little. Took what was mine."

"_Florian_," Fay said again, remembering the boy she'd known so many years ago.

"Here are people's dreams and nightmares, their fears and will! They will be reborn in me, as I rise from elf to Emperor to God!"

She knew what he was going to do, Fay thought, horrified. He'd always wanted to be like her, like her father, like all the other elves. He'd craved it, needed it, until it had finally driven him mad.

The Emperor stepped off the ledge and plummeted down into the raw, wild magic.

"Well," the Overlord said coolly, looking over the ledge. "Is it too much to hope he's killed himself?"

The room began to shake, marble pillars toppling, and he swore under his breath, backing hurriedly away from the edge. _Something_ heaved itself from the pit, oozing and amorphous, howling, tore its way through the wall of the palace and plunged into the burning city beyond.

Marius was practically vibrating with excitement, the monocle popping from his eye.

"He's beautiful!" he shrieked. "He's beautiful! My god is a wondrous sight!"

He raced away after the abomination, cackling. The Overlord stared after them, astounded.

"What in the hells just happened?" he asked slowly.

"I think that thing is Florian!" Gnarl exclaimed. "It looks to me like all that magical energy isn't taking kindly to its new host!"

"Well, he's destroying _my_ city. Any ideas on how I can take him down?"

"I suggest a healthy dose of thwacking it about until it's dead, Master."

"Thanks, Gnarl. That's helpful, as always."

He gathered his minions and set out to save the city he hated.

-x-

Rose felt the moment when the shield over the palace dissolved. She felt the questing touch of the Sentinels on her mind, realized with a curious affection that they'd been searching for her. She sent out her will, summoning them, as the guards brought out the manacles, ready to chain her. Her guards' eyes widened as the Sentinels shimmered into place around her, and they made superstitious little signs against evil, hands going to their swords.

"One chance," she snapped at them. "Drop your swords and run."

Steel rang on stone, and as a man they turned and fled. She smiled, grim, then stopped short as the foundations of the palace shook. She felt magic crackle and surge in her very bones, heard the Sentinels keening, their hooded heads twisting to look towards the magic containment room.

"Oh, no," she breathed.

Her son hadn't been able to stop Florian in time, she thought.

She hurried from the dungeons, as fast as her legs would take her, got to the palace courtyard just in time to see something impossibly vast and monstrous burst from the marble walls and lurch its way towards the city. She stared after it, shocked. The Sentinels drifted after it, drawn to its magic like moths to a flame, keening piteously. She drew them back to her with an effort of will, shuddering. She could feel the savage, feral power in the hideous thing, knew that it would crush her fragile Sentinels like ants if they got near it.

Up ahead, she saw her son jump down from the ruined wall, followed by the remains of his ragged minion army. She summoned her remaining Sentinels and went after him.

The god-thing was rampaging, mindless, crushing everything in its path. Marius was standing on a balcony, looking down at it like a proud parent.

"Bow down to the great devourer!" he cried, his eyes gleaming. "Kneel, you pathetic fools! Kneel, and let him destroy you!"

Rose looked up, frowning, caught a glimpse of firelight on steel. There were archers crouched on the rooftops above the courtyard, wearing black, faces smeared with soot. As she watched, one let an arrow fly, and her son grunted in pain as it struck his shoulder, trying to focus his attention on the newborn god. She raised her hands, drawing on the Sentinels' power, and the archer toppled, choking, as she drew the very air from his lungs.

"No!" She snapped. "There must be balance! The cycle must be maintained."

The archers on the rooftops hesitated, bows swinging towards her. The Sentinels turned dark hoods towards them, and they turned and fled. Marius gave her a venomous look, his eyes mad.

"You can't stop this now, Rose!" He cried, laughing. "My God will embrace us all!"

Her son glanced at her, keeping a wary eye on the ravenous god.

"When one force grows out of control, another always rises to stop it," she told him. "If you don't cut him down now, the world will tear itself apart until either he or it is destroyed."

The god-thing howled, tearing its way through a wall, humping off into the city. Her son made to follow it, but she put her hand on his arm.

"There cannot be light without darkness," she said softly. "And you are that darkness. His aggression shows fear- he _can_ be killed."

He looked down at her, expressionless, and pulled his arm away. She stepped back to her Sentinels and gave him a weary, wary smile.

"Good luck."


	25. Chapter 25

The newborn god's flanks writhed and heaved as the magical energy within it rebelled. Virulent blue ooze gushed from ugly gashes on its leathery hide, and it trembled and howled, full of fury and pain. It was dying.

The Overlord's minions were flinging themselves on it, cackling, sensing that it was near the last of its strength. Myriad eyes turned on bristling stalks, tracking the darting shapes helplessly, full of dumb animal hunger. It stopped, vomiting up bright flecks of magic and masonry, brought up a bewildered-looking unicorn. His reds hit it hard, and the unicorn rose with a terrible cry, staggered flaming towards him, maddened.

His axe flashed down, cleaving the proud head from its neck, and it tumbled, crushed beneath the bulk of the flailing god. The Devourer was lashing out at random, now, tendrils flailing, minions clinging to its flanks. It wailed, a horrible, ear-piercing sound, and its sides heaved as it began to retch again.

Florian fell from its puckered maw with a wet squelch, picked himself up slowly, looking dazed. The Overlord leaped down beside him, and the elf turned to face him, his eyes wide and mad behind the mask.

"This is what I was meant to be!" Florian cried, blazing with stolen might. "All shall bow before me!"

He raised his hands, his veins burning bright with power. He would crush the barbarian lord, he thought, he would steal his magic, he would rise from his cocoon to the realm of the gods. The world would tremble, and at last, they would all adore him, and fear him.

The Overlord was raising his hand as if to ward him off. Florian sneered behind the mask, magic crackling over his skin. The witch boy was right to cower, he thought, he was right to fear him-

Power lashed out like a whip, searing him to his core. He felt his back arch, his bones warping, as the Overlord reached out to him, _into_ him, and drained him to a husk. He fell, startled, horrified.

"No," he gasped. "No, it can't be!"

He reached out to the magic that had sheltered him, longing to be in its embrace again. He felt its power flowing into him, even stronger than before, felt his feet leave the ground. He laughed aloud.

"This is it!" He cried. "My ascension! I'm being taken up! I will embrace the world!"

Nothing could stop him now, he thought, giddy, staring at the approaching stars. He was going to join the gods! He was going to be one of them! And then he would rule, and remake the world as he saw fit. He would take every last bit of magic for himself, and he would never be powerless, never again-

His heart went first, flashed into brilliant blue fire. Lightning crackled through his veins as the god's magic filled him, spilling out of his mouth, his eyes, his every cell. The magic tore him apart, bursting free in a torrent of raw, wild power.

Viscous ooze fell in a brief, stinking rain. The Overlord wiped at his cloak, annoyed. He was never, he thought, going to get all the bits of Solarius out of all the various nooks and crannies in his armor.

He heard a soft step on the stones behind him, felt the chill touch of the Sentinels. He turned, eyes narrowed. Rose inclined her head to him, formal.

"And so it has ended," she said. "The cycle starts afresh."

The words had the air of ritual to them, carried the faintest ring of power. He watched her, wondering how many secrets she was keeping from him, if he could trust her to share them.

Rose picked her way gingerly over the courtyard, skirts held high.

"I hope you don't expect me to clean this up," she said, trying for humor. "Men...can't destroy without getting everything all messy!"

"Funny." He wiped ichor off his axe onto a minion. "The way I see it, I was the one cleaning up _your_ mess."

She stopped short, let her skirts fall, staring up at him. He looked down at her, unreadable.

"Are you hurt?" she asked him at last.

He made a low, irritated noise.

"What do you care?" he snapped.

"I'm your _mother_!"

He turned his back on her and walked away without a second glance, heading for the palace. After a moment of shock, she scrambled after him in an undignified hurry.

"Thorn!" she cried. "Wait, please!"

He didn't look back.

"Thorn?" she said again.

A pair of minions threw the palace doors open for him, saluting. He stormed through with a crash of armor, stalked into the throne room.

"Listen to me, will you? Son?"

Solarius' golden throne sat atop a marble dais, glittering with jewels, crested in brilliant rays of stylized sunlight. It was magnificent, and much too small for him. He shattered it with a few strong strokes, smashing gold and white marble, set the minions to work building a makeshift throne out of the wreckage.

"Son?" Rose said softly, her voice uncertain.

He sprawled on the throne, gestured to a minion.

"Bring my Mistresses," he growled. "I want to show them this."

The minion saluted cheerfully and scampered away. They stared at each other, the throne room silent but for the crackle of flames and the faint cries of the wounded.

Rose cleared her throat.

"You'll want to put that fire out," she said at last. "No use conquering a city, if you're just going to burn it down."

He shrugged, unconcerned.

Rose hesitated.

"I'll...I'll go take care of it," she said at last.

She swept away. He glared after her, conflicted. Part of him, a very small and childish part, wanted her approval, wanted her to tell him she was _proud_. The other part, though, still wanted nothing more than to cleave her in two. He set the axe carefully aside and sighed. He needed her, he thought, weary, at least for now. She knew how the Empire worked. And she was right. He wanted to keep it.

The doors creaked open, and his Mistresses joined him in the palace. Juno swept in like she owned the place, her hips swaying as she looked around smugly, no doubt already planning on how to redecorate. Fay was calm and collected, only glanced about once with idle curiosity. Kelda was trying very, very hard to look unimpressed.

"So this is the Empire, huh?" she said. "I think I like the Netherworld better."

"Yes, well, rats really do belong underground," Juno said coolly.

Kelda ignored her, for once, hurrying to his side. She perched next to him on the rubble, looking about.

"You did it," she said. "I mean, I always thought you would, but..." A note of awe crept into her voice. "I have to admit. This place is really something."

She felt a sudden chill and turned, her eyes narrowing. The hooded woman stood at the end of the throne room, flanked by a quartet of Sentinels. Kelda tensed, her hand going to the knife on her belt.

"Witch boy," she muttered.

He touched her hand.

"It's okay," he murmured. "She's on our side, I think. Mostly."

"I don't trust her," she growled.

"Neither do I," he said, sounding amused.

"Who is that spooky bitch, anyhow?"

"My mother."

She stared at him, startled, and he laughed. Rose walked to his makeshift throne, pulling back her hood.

"'Witch boy'?" she asked, and then gave the red-haired girl a wry look. "And 'spooky bitch'? Really."

The peasant just sat back, frowning thunderously at her. Rose sighed.

"The fire brigades are working as we speak," she said, and hesitated. "Thorn."

He was ignoring her, smiling at one of the women with him- the former Queen Fay, Rose realized with a start. She, and all her agents, had thought the elven Queen had died when the Last Sanctuary fell. Evidently, she'd been wrong about that, as well.

"Thorn!" she snapped, louder.

He gave her a quizzical look.

"Can I speak with you?" she asked him. "Alone?"

"I have nothing more to say to you, unless it concerns the business of running the Empire," he said, his voice hard. He kissed Juno's hand, and the girl simpered. Rose suppressed a roll of her eyes. "And I don't care about anything you have to say, either."

"Please," she said.

Something in her voice made him look up. He glanced at his Mistresses, nodded towards the door.

"Leave us," he said, and then, when the red-headed girl made an irritated noise. "Please."

Rose arced an eyebrow at that, surprised. The other Mistresses filed out immediately, but the red-haired girl laid a hand on his shoulder, said something too soft for Rose to hear. Her son reached up and squeezed her hand. She saw the way they looked at each other and frowned, reevaluating the peasant girl.

"Go," she heard him say. "I'll be alright."

The girl left the room, with one last suspicious glare at Rose.

"Thorn," Rose said softly, crossing to him. "Let me see your face. Please."

He glanced at her, his eyes narrowed.

"Why do you keep calling me that that?" he snapped.

"Calling you what?"

"'Thorn'."

She stopped, shocked, put a hand to her chest.

"It's...it's your name," she said at last. "You...you've forgotten it."

"Huh." He leaned back, considering her. "'Thorn', hmm?"

"Yes."

"How stupid."

She felt herself tense.

"I beg your pardon?"

"It's just so...so very fucking twee. Rose and 'Thorn', was it? I think I like 'witch boy' better."

"Surely you're joking."

"Did you name me that because I was the 'thorn' in your side, then?" He laughed, low and harsh. "Is that why you were so quick to get rid of me?"

She stared at him, shocked.

"I didn't want to get rid of you," she protested. "I told you, I was trying to protect you!"

"By leaving me out to starve in the cold?"

"To- to starve?" Rose frowned. "Thorn- son- I didn't leave you there with _nothing_. There was a woman in Nordberg, she was supposed to look after you. Leialyn, Leven, something like that-"

"Lleweyn?"

"Yes, that's the one."

"Huh. Well, you must not have paid her enough, then, because-"

"I left you with enough money to buy a small _villa!_" Rose stopped short, staring at him. "But of course, you were a child. And you didn't know that, did you? And she never told you." She felt her jaw tighten, angry. "How _could_ she? I trusted her to take care of you!"

Yet another miscalculation, she thought, furious with herself. She should have gone back to check on him- she should have found a way to elude Florian and Marius' watchful eyes, should have made sure her son was well cared for.

"It doesn't matter." Thorn shrugged, his eyes hard and cruel. "She was just a stupid old woman, after all. _She_ doesn't matter."

Rose took a step back, feeling as if she'd been slapped.

"I was trying to _save_ you," she gasped, her voice breaking. "That's why I sent you there!"

"Oh, so that's why you abandoned me in a shitty little town in the frozen ass-end of nowhere, where I-"

"Do you know how many attempts there were on my life when I was carrying you?" Rose snapped.

He fell silent.

"In the last month before you were born, at least three different people tried to kill me. They were frightened, you see...they knew my child could grow up to be an Overlord. I didn't want that for you."

"You didn't want me to be powerful, to be a ruler, to-"

"I didn't want you to be _hated!"_ Rose cried, her eyes growing wet. "What mother would ever want that for her son?"

For once, he had no reply. She stared up at him, her eyes bright.

"Please," she said again. "Please, let me see your face. I want to know what you look like."

He hesitated for a long moment, and then he unbuckled the helmet, set it down on the rubble at his feet. Rose stared at him, her face wet.

"Oh," she whispered, coming closer. "Oh, oh gods. You look so much like your father."

"What was he like?" he asked her, so quietly she could hardly hear him.

"He was noble, in his own way. He was very brave...sometimes, stupidly, stubbornly brave. He was clever. He was very strong, and sometimes terrible...but to me, at least, if to nobody else, he was...he was kind." She stopped herself, a flush in her cheeks. "I'm sorry. I could go on for hours, but we don't really have the time, right now."

"Did you love him?" he asked her.

"Oh, yes." She bowed her head, remembering. "More than anything, until you came along."

He studied her, frowning. He wasn't sure, he thought, whether or not to trust her, but he needed her help, whether he liked it or not.

"I need some things from you," he said, changing the subject.

"Yes, of course," she said, the eagerness painfully apparent in her voice. "How can I help you?"

"I'll need a thorough accounting of the treasury here, as well as the armory. I want to know how many siege towers we have, how many ballistas, how many catapults. How many soldiers and citizens you think might be loyal to me, and how many still loyal to Solarius."

"Of course."

"I'll also need any information you have on foreign powers that might be hostile to the Empire." He paused. "If you know that, that is."

Rose smiled at him, her eyes sparkling.

"I've not been idle, son. My spies can give you all the information you need, and more. But we have little to fear from other nations. The Empire either crushed them all or bought them out years ago."

"Perhaps."

"I can also give you the names of the merchant guild leaders, influential senators, and other people who can ease your transition into power."

"I'm already in power."

"Yes, but you want to _hold_ that throne you've conquered, don't you? I'll get you lists, and charts, and maps." Rose paced, warming to the task. "Oh, this will be such fun!"

"I can hardly wait," he said wearily.

Rose stopped, looking closer at him.

"You look exhausted," she said. "It's late. I can manage here. Get some rest. We'll have a lot to do, tomorrow."

She took a step towards him, and her hand moved briefly towards him...and then she sighed at the look on his face and dropped her hand, turned and swept out of the throne room with her Sentinels.

He passed a hand over his face, tired beyond measure.

"Kelda," he said. "I can hear you breathing."

She stepped out from behind a pillar.

"I thought I asked you to leave," he said, trying, and failing, to sound stern.

She shrugged.

"Sorry, I guess I must have misheard you. I heard 'Kelda, stay behind and keep an eye on my spooky mom in case she tries anything'."

"I'm pretty sure I didn't say all that."

"Pretty sure that's what I heard."

She grinned at him, cheeky, slipped onto his lap. He shook his head at her, amused.

"What would you have done, anyways? Against four Sentinels?"

"Slit her throat, probably," she replied promptly. "She seems to be the one controlling them, mostly."

He stared at her, knowing he should feel aghast, couldn't quite bring himself to try. Kelda ducked her head, suddenly embarrassed.

"Sorry," she said. "I know she's your mother and all, and I probably shouldn't say that kind of thing."

"It's fine." He shrugged. "I don't think I'd care if you killed her."

"You're still angry at her, aren't you?"

"Of course I am," he snapped.

Kelda hesitated.

"She really loves him, you know," she said. "Your father. She _still_ loves him." She studied him for a moment, brow furrowed. "I know how she feels, I think. If anything ever happened to you-"

He cut her off with a kiss, felt her respond, her lips warm.

"Nothing's going to happen to me," he said confidently.

"It better not," she said, and then she snuggled up against him, gave him a look that made his blood burn hotter. "Let's go home, witch boy."

-x-

Kelda had insisted on a wash, as soon as they got back to the Netherworld. He'd laughed at her and tried to sweep her off her feet, but she'd smacked him hard enough to let him know she meant business, and then she'd dragged him off to the baths.

Now she was doing something to his shoulders that felt _amazing. _He sat back with a tired sigh, leaning his head against her thigh. Her hands started to rake through his hair, coaxing out tangles.

"Gods above," he heard her say, sounding amused. "And they call _me_ scruffy. Did you have a bird nesting here or something?"

"Just had the helmet on all day. There might be bits of Solarius in there still, too." He yawned, exhausted. "Pretty sure I even got bits of him in my mouth, even."

"Hey, now, don't fall asleep on me here, you're too big for me to carry you back to bed!"

"Mmm."

He opened his eyes a fraction as he heard her splash into the pool next to him, felt her hands sliding up his thighs.

"Come on," she teased him. "You can't be _that_ tired. What did you do today, anyway? Conquer an Empire or something?"

She sat on his lap, straddling him, reached down between his legs, and he found he wasn't so tired, after all.

"Ha!" she exclaimed. "Thought so." She kissed the corner of his jaw, smirking, slipped out of the water. "Come on, you. Let's go to bed."

He followed her without another word, out of the baths and through the red curtain. She pushed him down to the bed and looked down at him, her eyes soft.

"Should I call you 'Emperor' now?" she asked him, her voice teasing.

He smiled up at her, pulling her closer.

"'Witch boy' suits me fine," he said, and then he snapped his fingers, remembering. "Oh! I brought you something."

He reached down and plucked something from the pile of treasure scattered carelessly in the corner, handed her a golden mask.

"I'm afraid Solarius' head sort of...exploded," he said. "But we found his mask, if that will do."

"Oh, it's perfect," Kelda breathed. "It will look just right above our bed with all the other trophies, don't you think?"

"Whatever you like."

And then, to his surprise, she put the mask on, her eyes dancing at him from behind the gilded visage.

"What do you think?" She asked him. "Does it suit me?"

"Oh, gods. Kelda, take that off."

"Why?" She wiggled her hips teasingly. "This doesn't turn you on?"

"Stop. Oh gods, stop, please."

"You've been a very naughty Overlord, conquering my kingdom like that," she said, in a distressingly good imitation of Florian's nasal whine. "So now I'm going to have to-"

"Goodnight," he said, pushing her off. "I'm going to sleep."

She laughed, pulled the mask off.

"Are you done?" he asked her dryly.

"I could wear it on special occasions, maybe," she said wickedly. "To spice things up-"

"I'm going to melt that thing."

"Nooooooo!" she protested. "It'll look so pretty up next to the Spider Queen! I promise I'll stop."

"Promise?"

"Yes."

He reached for her, and she pulled the mask down.

"I lied," she said.

"Gods damn it, Kelda!"

"Sorry, sorry!" She set the mask aside, grinning. "The look on your face, though!"

"Brat."

"Arsehole," she said fondly, drew him closer, kissing his neck.

He made a low, quiet sound, his hands settling on her hips. She pressed closer, felt the heat of his skin, the strong beat of his heart, as his breathing slowed.

"Witch boy?" she asked. "Are you asleep already?"

"Mmm," he mumbled.

"I've got something to tell you," she said, thinking of the Ruborian desert.

"Mmm," he said again, pulling her closer, one hand sliding absently over her ass.

Kelda smiled and nestled against him, her own eyes drifting closed. It could wait, she thought, until the morning.


	26. Epilogue

The woman knelt, gloved and hooded, before the crude altar, ringed by her attendant wraiths. A fire licked sickly green over the remains of small, broken creatures, bodies twisting in the heat. Candles shivered fitfully as she shook an old, weathered bone over the flames.

"Hear me," she commanded. "God of the broken, God of the scorned, God of the lost. Answer my prayer."

She cast a handful of tiny, broken bones into the fire- the skeletons of birds and mice. She pricked her thumb, let a drop of blood bead and fall into the flames.

"I call you, with bone and blood. I call you, with flesh and fire. I call you to heed me, and listen to my prayer. Broken God! Answer my call!"

The air chilled. The wraiths glanced at each other, warily- even dead, they feared her, and her dark sorceries. She smiled, her lips twisting under her hood.

"Spurned sister," a voice hissed, dry as the scuttle of scales over old bone. "Loveless lover. Why have you woken me?"

The bones in the fire trembled, drew together, resolved themselves into a little skeleton. It was sharp-edged and otherwordly, with an uncanny anatomy. The woman shuddered, making sure she didn't look at it too closely. She didn't want to gaze too long on a God, she thought, even a small and broken God like the one her prayer had summoned.

"I have a proposition for you," the woman said, averting her eyes. "Do you recognize this place I've called you to?"

The Broken God looked about, and its restless weaving stilled for a moment.

"Oh," it sighed. "Oh, yes. The Infernal Abyss." It met her eyes, and she shuddered. "Where is he?" It demanded. "Where is my love?"

"The Forgotten God?"

It was an effort, even to say the words. She'd drilled herself on the name for weeks, had studied old, crumbling scriptures, but even here, in the heart of hell, she felt the memory slipping away as soon as the name left her lips.

"Oh." The skeleton shuddered. "Yes. She tried to make me forget him, when she found him with me. But I carved his true name into my very bones." It laughed, a high, wild sound that sent a shudder down her spine. "I must see him! It has been so, so long. I can sense his power! Bring me to him?"

The woman shuddered.

"I can't. He's trapped here, powerless," she lied. "We-he needs your help to escape this place."

"But...what can I do?" The bones clattered against each other, chattering. "I, too, am trapped, in the mortal realm. The Goddess broke me and bound me beneath the ground."

"I've been trying to summon you up for years," the woman said. "This is the first time I've succeeded. Something's changed."

Something had certainly changed in Hell. A newborn god had fallen from grace, somehow, and ended up in the Abyss. They were all having such fun in the infernal realm, coming up with new, ironic ways to torture him. And, best of all, the power the dying god brought with him had weakened the borders between the worlds. Soon, she could leave this ugly little realm, could live in the style she _deserved._

"Yes," the little God mused. "Yes, it has. Mortal creatures found me, woke me. They are bringing me offerings, human woman. Far better offerings than the paltry little bones you gave me. My power is growing!"

"Enough to open the Abyss?" she asked it eagerly.

"No. Not yet. But...perhaps..." The flames in its sockets flickered as it considered, and then the jaws gaped in a hideous parody of a smile. "Yes. Soon. Very soon."

"Good." It took all her courage to smile back, but she returned the gesture, forcing herself to hide her distaste. "We can help you break the Goddess' curse. We'll gather power, you above, and us below, and then we'll raise hell together. What do you say? Will you help us help _you_?"

"Anything," the Broken God hissed. "Anything, to see my love again. Anything, to bring the Mother Goddess and her wretched children low. You have my word."

"And mine," the woman lied. "We'll be in touch."

She flicked a gloved hand through the bones, scattering them. The fire guttered, extinguished, and the candles flickered and went out. A wraith handed her a towel, and she wiped her hands, smirking.

"Well," she purred. "That certainly went well. Better than I'd expected, really."

"Ssss?"

A wraith hissed something, and she frowned at it.

"Oh, no, of course I don't care if that silly creature is disappointed when it finds the Master's killed the..the..."

The wraith sighed.

"Ssss!"

"Oh, yes, the Forgotten God, thank you. After it opens the Abyss for us, we'll just let the Master deal with the stupid thing." She made a face. "After, of course, we've dealt with my sister and the Masters' little...indiscretion. Oh, speaking of...I should get back before he misses me." She kissed a bony brow. "Thank you very much for coming with me, loves, you've all been just darling. And don't breathe a word of this to him just yet, or I'm afraid I'll have to kill you all over again."

She swept away from the altar, a spring in her step.

"Hello, sweetie!" She chirped. "Did you miss me?"

The Lord of Hell sat on a chair of bone and thorn, creeping tendrils coiling about his legs. He wore a great black helm and bleak, heavy armor, the rusting metal carving cruel hooks into his dark skin, black blood leaking slowly into the dry, hungry throne. He opened his eyes at the sound of her voice, raising his head.

"Velvet?" he said slowly, sounding lost. "I had the strangest dream...there was a woman. I...I knew her."

She slipped onto his lap, wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Shh," she said soothingly. "It was just a dream, love."

"But..." He was struggling, now, trying to wake. "I knew her. She told me...she told me I have a son!" His eyes widened. "Rose!-"

"Hush." She commanded, passed a hand over his brow. "Sleep."

For a moment, he fought her, but he was wounded, and still weak. His brilliant eyes closed, and the throne tightened its hold like a lover. Velvet frowned, sliding off his lap. He was getting harder to control, she thought. She'd have to move soon.

Velvet fingered the old scars beneath her hood with a grimace. She'd had all manner of misadventures, thanks to the bloody Cataclysm, and she'd been quite upset when one day she'd woken up dead. She'd decided then and there that she was through being powerless. She would use her 'Master', and the Broken God, and anything or anyone else she could get her hands on. After twenty long years in hell, she wasn't about to let anyone stop her- not Rose, not her bastard, not even the Gods themselves.

She was rather looking forward, she thought, to ruling the world.

(Author's note: I decided to chop things off with Iron and Ice here...since I'm mostly next going to be delving into my own derpy fan theories about what might happen next. I'm going to be uploading all the deleted chapters from II as a new story, "Bone and Blood", with a bit of additional fleshing out to try to make things a bit more clear. I added an epilogue to II that hopefully makes it clearer what direction I'm planning to take the next story in.

Thank you so, so, so much, everyone who's read and commented, and thank you for sticking with me. This story has been a hell of a lot of fun to write. I hope you've all enjoyed it so far.)


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